


Cherry Lips

by themayqueen



Category: Hanson (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Clubbing, College, Crossdressing, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Incest, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, M/M, Makeup, Sexual Content, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 02:10:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 78,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3878371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themayqueen/pseuds/themayqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newly single and struggling to keep up with grad school, Zac can't really imagine any way his life could get worse. Then his estranged older brother Taylor shows up. After seven years apart, he and Zac are practically strangers, but they quickly form a deep, complicated bond that threatens to tear them even further apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cupcakes and Beer

The library was all but deserted on Friday nights, but that was the way Zac liked it. No distractions. No one to make small talk with. Just him, his laptop and some boring scholarly essay on Klimt. 

Zac hated Klimt.

That was an exaggeration, he supposed, but at the moment, any artist who painted so many pretty, tall, pale women was on his shit list. They all looked like Carly as far as Zac could see, and it dredged up too many memories for him to deal with. Worse than the memories were the make-believe images his mind created of Carly with her new boyfriend. Was he even her boyfriend? Zac didn’t know. Whatever she wanted to call the TA she had cheated on him with. Images of Carly and Byron--what the hell kind of name was Byron, anyway?--flitted around Zac’s mind often enough to drive him insane.

He obviously wasn’t getting any work done, and the essay was due Monday. Maybe he could do better back at his apartment with a few beers, he decided. With that thought in mind, he packed up his laptop and papers, and headed down to the first floor of the library. It was quiet there, too, with the only other person around that quiet blonde girl who seemed to work every weekend. Melissa, he thought her name was. His friends kept suggesting that he ask her out; she certainly did smile at him a lot when he walked by. Zac couldn’t seem to get them to understand that so soon after things with Carly, he just wasn’t interested in dating again.

It wasn’t a short walk across campus to the apartment complex where Zac lived, but he didn’t mind. He’d lived in that complex since junior year, when things got serious with Carly and they decided to move in together. It was just far enough off campus to avoid all the raucous parties that the University of Texas was known for, but close enough that he could handle walking, so Zac had stayed there (although he’d wheedled the landlord into giving him a different, cheaper unit) even after the breakup.

Just around the corner from his complex was an all-night convenience store, and Zac found himself walking into it without giving it much thought. He was out of beer, he was pretty sure, so he grabbed a case and then wandered aimlessly past a row of pastries in a glass case. A big, fluffy chocolate cupcake caught his eye and he picked it up.

He had forgotten this year, he realized. But a quick check of his phone revealed that it really was March 14. His brother Taylor’s birthday.

It was stupid, really--something Carly had always been quick to point out. But it didn’t feel right if Zac didn’t do something to celebrate Taylor’s birthday, since they hadn’t been able to spend it together since they were in high school. The way he carried on, Carly said, you’d have thought Taylor was dead. But to Zac he might as well have been, given the way their parents had all but forced him to leave and never spoken of him again. They hadn’t allowed Zac to contact him, and by the time he went away to college and tried to find Taylor on his own, the trail had gone cold. He didn’t even know where to begin looking. 

And so to Zac, his brother might as well have really been dead, and if he wanted to memorialize him with one cupcake a year, on his birthday, what did it really matter?

Zac paid for his beer and cupcake as quickly as he could, trying not to think about how pathetic he must have looked to the cashier. He had just turned to leave the convenience store when he saw two familiar faces coming through the door. 

“Zac!” Shaun called out, a big smile on his face. Drew looked less enthusiastic, but he was always more accommodating of the bad mood Zac had been in for months now—since Carly.

He wondered when he would stop thinking of his life as _before Carly_ and _after Carly_.

After an awkward moment’s pause, Zac formed a smile and replied, “Hey, guys. What’s up?”

“Just picking up supplies to pregame Southby tomorrow,” Shaun replied. “Remember, we scored those tickets? You’re still coming, right?”

Zac didn’t feel like pointing out that he hadn’t been planning to come in the first place, but he knew it wouldn’t make any difference to Shaun. “I don’t know; I’ve got a big paper due next week.”

“There will always be big papers. There will not always be free rides to awesome concerts.”

“Call me tomorrow and we’ll see,” Zac conceded, knowing his answer wouldn’t change. He wasn’t going.

“It’s cool, man,” Drew said softly, giving Shaun a nudge that seemed to pass him by completely unnoticed.

Shaun ran a hand through his thick, curly hair, then sighed. “All I’m saying is you can’t stay locked up in that apartment avoiding the world forever. It’s not gonna fix things. It’s just not.”

“I’m not sure anything will,” Zac replied honestly. Perhaps a little too honestly than he should have, judging by the hurt look on Shaun’s face and the growing discomfort on Drew’s. “Sorry, guys. I’m just… sorry. I need to go.”

Before his friends could say anything else and make the situation even more awkward, Zac nudged Shaun aside as gently as possible and scurried out of the convenience store. He knew he was being rude to them, and he wished he could find another way to be, but it seemed lately he couldn’t do anything right. It was easiest to just stay away from them and just become a hermit; all on his own, he would eliminate the risk of offending anyone else or making them feel that uncomfortable need to coddle him and his poor broken heart.

It wasn’t a good way to live, but it was becoming the norm for Zac.

****

To Zac’s surprise, Shaun and Drew left him alone for the rest of the weekend. A part of him was worried they were going to lose patience with him and give up entirely. Maybe this weekend was just the beginning of them finally realizing that he wasn’t going to come out of this funk.

And maybe not.

He had been in the library for several hours Wednesday afternoon, revising some art criticisms he was supposed to have turned in several days ago. His professors were probably losing patience with him, too. Time seemed to pass so quickly when he was working, yet he never got anything done. Until he saw a curly head poking into the door to his study room, he didn’t even realize that he had worked through dinner.

“Hungry?” Shaun asked, holding out a brown paper bag. “I got bagels from the coffee shop downstairs, but I’m totally up for ordering a pizza delivered to the library, too. Well, I would be, but it would probably get me fired.”

In spite of himself, Zac laughed softly. “You’d be the hero of all the freshmen you’ve recruited, I’m sure.”

“Maybe so,” Shaun agreed, sitting down across from Zac and digging into the bag. He offered Zac a bagel before speaking again. “Another lonely night in the library, huh? But hey, that Melissa chick is working again.”

“She’s always working,” Zac replied, more interested in his food than in Shaun’s attempts to hook him up.

“Look, man, she’s cute. What’s your hold up? You know she wouldn’t turn you down. And a librarian? That’s kinda sexy.”

Zac shook his head. “It’s not about her. You know it’s not.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shaun mumbled. “I’m sorry; I know I’ve been on your case lately. I just can’t stand to see you down like this, you know? This depressed Zac is depressing me. But I don’t wanna guilt trip you about it. I just wanna cheer you up, and I don’t know what else to do to help.”

Zac shut his laptop and gave Shaun the best smile he could manage. “I appreciate that. I really do. I know I’m being a jackass and taking this whole… breakup way too hard. I should be over it by now; it’s been months.”

“And you were with her for years,” Shaun pointed out. “It’s alright, dude. You remember how hard I took it when Trisha broke up with me, and we had only been together for a couple months. But when you get so into something, and you see yourself with them for a long time, it’s just… it’s routine. It’s your life. Then it _sucks_ when it’s ripped away from you.”

 _Ripped away from you,_ Zac thought. Carly wasn’t ripped away from him. She chose to ruin what they had and leave him. Ripped away from you—that sounded like something beyond her control, something like what had happened to Taylor. Of course, that was different. Taylor was his brother. But maybe it was that loss, the pain of losing his brother, that made Zac so prone to becoming this pathetic, depressed mess. Had he been this way before Taylor left? It had only been eight years, but it was hard to remember what he was like before, as a teenager or even a kid. 

“Yo, Zac?” Shaun’s voice cut through his thoughts. “You still in there, man?”

“Yeah, sorry.” Zac shook his head, as though he could clear out the cobwebs and ghosts that way. If only it were so simple. “Just got a little lost in thought. Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but sometimes it’s like… I can’t force myself to cheer up, and having it pointed out that I’m not very cheerful just makes it worse. Like I’m a burden or whatever. But… thanks. Although these bagels suck.”

“They do, don’t they?” Shaun laughed. “Let’s go get a pizza. There’s nothing pizza, wings and beer can’t fix.”

Zac wasn’t so sure about that, but he was sure that he’d gotten as much work done that evening as he was going to get done. If Shaun was still willing to give him a chance and hang out with him, then maybe there was some hope left for him. 

Shaun helped Zac pack up his papers and the crappy bagels, and the two of them made their way downstairs. Of course, Shaun had to lead them right past the circulation desk where Melissa sat peering at them over the top of a book. She couldn’t have been more obvious if she had tried, and Zac had to try not to laugh at her. And then he couldn’t even remember the last time he had laughed.

Maybe there really _was_ some hope left for him, some light at the end of the tunnel.

“Alright,” Shaun said, slapping Zac on the back once they were outside and away from Melissa’s prying  
eyes. “So, you turning over a new leaf? Coming out with us this weekend?”

“I don’t know…” Zac mumbled. He had visions of himself as the sad, lonely drunk at the bar while Shaun and Drew tried to pick up chicks, and he didn’t think he was ready for that yet. But he definitely wasn’t ready to pick up chicks himself, either.

Shaun nodded knowingly. “No, it’s cool. It’s cool. Maybe next time?”

“You know what?” Zac asked, surprising even himself. “I’ll come. Maybe it’ll be good for me.”

A look of shock passed across Shaun’s face for a moment, and Zac would have been offended if he hadn’t surprised himself as well. Maybe it was Shaun’s new patience and his willingness to accept that Zac wasn’t going to be okay so soon that made Zac decide to give him a chance. He knew his friends meant well, even if they did sometimes push him too far. They only wanted to help him, he knew, and Zac had to admit… he needed all the help he could get.


	2. Jordan

There were probably worse ways to spend his Saturday night than going out clubbing with Shaun and Drew, but Zac really couldn’t think of any. Even before his breakup with Carly, it had been months since he’d gone out with them, thanks to her disapproval of their partying habits. Maybe a part of him was finally ready to rebel against her protests. For whatever the reason, he now found himself in a noisy, packed club, nursing his fifth or sixth beer while Shaun and Drew tried—and mostly failed—to pick up chicks.

He hadn’t planned to get completely plowed, but it was looking more and more likely. No one wanted to talk to the sad, lonely guy who looked like he might start crying into his beer at any second, and Zac didn’t think he could pretend not to be that guy.

Rather than attempt to be friendly, he resigned himself to getting shitfaced and people watching. It was a strange club, built into an old warehouse in a seedy part of Austin, and it seemed to attract a varied crowd. One face in the crowd in particular kept catching his attention. She stood out, tall and thin like a model… like Carly. That was where the similarity ended, though. Instead of long, stick straight black hair, this girl’s fell in soft blonde curls around her shoulders. And unlike Carly’s permanent, judgmental frown, this girl wore a coy smile. Her outfit left little to the imagination—sequined mini skirt and semi-sheer black tank that revealed a hint of leopard print bra—but somehow the overall effect was sexy, not sleazy. 

Zac had to look away when he realized she'd caught him staring. He scurried away from the bar before he could embarrass himself further, slipping into a seat in one of the booths that lined one wall of the club. The way he stumbled and fell into it, not to mention the way he'd gotten caught ogling that girl, only served to prove just how far gone he was. He chugged the rest of his beer anyway, then wished he had the guts to brave the bar for another one.

“Sierra Nevada, right?” A soft, low voice said, holding out a bottle.

Zac nodded and accepted the beer, vaguely registering how large the hand offering it was. The person it was attached to slid into the booth across from Zac, and he realized with a start that it was the girl he'd been shamelessly checking out—only up close, he wasn't so sure it _was_ a girl. He decided that called for more alcohol, and began chugging the beer she or he had offered.

The stranger laughed softly. “Slow down, sweetheart. Whatever you're trying to forget can't be that bad.”

“Yes it can,” Zac replied, pouting. “My friends—who have abandoned me, by the way—only dragged me out here to 'cheer me up.' Maybe I want to be miserable.”

“Why would you want that?”

“What do _you_ want after you've had your heart shattered into a million pieces?”

The girl... or guy... frowned. “Another drink. I'll be right back.”

When she—Zac refused to acknowledge the other possibility—returned, she slid into the booth next to Zac and offered him a double shot that looked like whiskey. Not a very girly drink, Zac noted, but he was too busy tossing back his own shots to check for an Adam’s apple.

“Now,” she said, brushing back a piece of hair that had fallen out of Zac's ponytail. “You wanna talk about it or destroy our livers some more?”

Zac shrugged. He was already seeing two of whoever this person was, so more alcohol didn't seem like the best idea. Instead, he soon found himself talking, telling this complete stranger the whole sordid tale of how Carly had been his entire life for three years, then left him just before the end of the previous semester—for one of her TAs, no less. Zac was surprised at how easy it was to talk to him, her, whatever. Maybe it was the blue eyes. They were soft and kind, unlike Carly's icy stare.

Once Zac had poured out his heart, he wanted to get to know this person he was, literally and metaphorically, leaning on. His questions were shrugged off in favor of more general conversation. Zac was disappointed, but even in his drunken state he realized he shouldn't press.

The two of them talked for a long time anyway, finding plenty of less personal topics, and inching ever close together. At some point, Shaun and Drew walked up, each with a girl who had surprisingly fallen for their lines, and asked Zac if he would be okay to get home on his own. He said yes, even though he wasn't sure he would. He wanted to introduce them to his new friend, but he couldn't remember her name—something kind of unisex, maybe with a J, he thought.

Zac noticed the odd looks his friends gave him as they walked away, but he wasn't at all sure what to make of them. Rather than try to think, he decided to nuzzle Jesse or Jamie or Jean's neck. She smelled so nice, like vanilla, and her skin was so soft that Zac barely even noticed the almost imperceptible stubble on her jaw.

“Zac, I don't know if...” Jaden began, trailing off when Zac began to nibble on her neck. “Yeah, you really—really shouldn't do that.”

Zac pulled back and pouted. “No, it's fine. I'm used to women not wanting me.”

Jodie laughed nervously. “I doubt that. But I also doubt you're used to... _men_ wanting you.”

Zac blinked and the man in front of him—Jordan, he remembered, certain that was right—came into focus. Up close, he could see the faint stubble through his makeup and the Adam’s apple that no makeup couple hide. Yet Zac stood by his original assessment—man or woman, Jordan was beautiful.

If Zac were even the least bit more sober, he would have been freaking out. In the back of his mind, he knew he _should_ have been freaking out. But he couldn't deny how good Jordan smelled or how soft and delicious his glossy red lips looked. He was biting down on the bottom one, no doubt nervous about Zac's reaction, and Zac wished _he_ were the one biting it.

So he did.

He leaned in and captured Jordan's bottom lip between his, sucking greedily and shamelessly on it. It did taste good, a mixture of whiskey and cherry. Jordan was the one to deepen the kiss, his forcefulness making Zac wonder how he could have ever mistaken him for a woman, long hair, makeup and skirt aside.

When he felt himself running out of breath, Zac pulled back and panted, “We should... my car...”

It was nearing last call, and Zac knew he was in no condition to drive, but they had to go _somewhere_. Jordan stared at Zac for a moment, then stood up and held out his hand. “Lead the way.”

Somewhat sheepishly, Zac took Jordan's hand in his. He knew he should run once he was out the door, but he also knew that he wouldn't. He'd gotten just enough of a taste of Jordan to want more, even if he _was_ another man. The really, really drunk part of his brain reminded him that Carly had slept with another man. If she could, why couldn't he?

It was the alcohol talking, Zac decided. He wasn’t into guys. He thought he would have known by now if he was, at least. But he was drunk and lonely, and the way Jordan swished his hips in that skirt was irresistible.

Maybe nothing would happen, though. Maybe he was assuming too much. Maybe Jordan would just walk him to his car and go. As they reached his car and Zac began to fumble in his pocket for his keys, he knew he would have an answer soon.

His keys, naturally, seemed stuck in his pocket. A thick, not at all feminine hand brushed his aside and took its place. Zac groaned when Jordan's knuckles grazed his cock. He wasn't hard, not fully, but it wouldn't take many more little touches like that to get him there. Jordan knew that, Zac was sure. He trailed one long finger up Zac's length before finally pulling out the keys and jingling them in Zac's face.

Zac snatched the keys quickly, blushing too hard to meet Jordan's eyes, and jabbed the unlock button. He opened the back door and practically fell into the seat, leaving the door open.

Jordan chuckle. “You know you're in the backseat?”

“Mhm,” Zac replied, watching Jordan climb in, long, thin legs first. His eyes caught the tiniest flash of red lace before Jordan adjusted himself. Zac shook his head and forced his eyes back up to Jordan's face. “I'm, uh, still a little too drunk to drive. We can just sit and... talk... for a while.”

“Talk?” Jordan echoed, scooting closer to Zac and brushing back that one damn strand of hair again.

“Talk, or...” He trailed off and shrugged, once again mesmerized by Jordan's lips. The gloss was mostly gone now, a little smear remaining just below his bottom lip, but Zac's mouth still watered at the sight of Jordan's perfect lips.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Zac had leaned in and pressed his lips to Jordan's. Just as he'd suspected, they were still delicious. He wasted no time slipping his tongue past them, wanting to taste as much of this strange and beautiful man as he could.

At some point, Jordan's hand crept down Zac's side, tickling his ribs, before finally finding its way to his crotch and the embarrassingly large bulge there. He moaned against Zac's mouth, which made Zac feel a little better about how turned on he was. The more Jordan rubbed him, even with his jeans and boxers in the way, the more turned on he became until he thought he was going to just die right then and there.

He didn't object at all when Jordan began sliding down his body, somehow managing to curl himself up to fit in the tiny floorboard. Zac knew what was coming next, and although a tiny part of his brain was screaming at him to stop this before it went too far, he really didn't think he could. He wanted it too much to stop. He _had_ to know what it felt like to be with this man.

Jordan was putting on a show for him, he was sure, but he didn't mind. He just stared wide eyed as Jordan kissed him through his jeans, then tugged the zipper down with his teeth. Zac lifted his hips to help Jordan pull his jeans down a bit, then pull his dick through the slit in his boxers. He felt self-conscious, wishing he'd worn something nicer than old blue plaid boxers, but he hadn't planned on any of this happening. How could he have known?

He _definitely_ couldn't have known how good this man's mouth would feel on him. It was hot and wet, and his unnaturally pink cheeks hollowed beautifully as he sucked. It was, without a doubt, the best blow job Zac had ever gotten—better than Carly, better than any other girl. He wasn't really surprised, and he couldn't stop his hips from thrusting up off the seat, his hand burying itself in Jordan's hair at the same time. Jordan moaned loudly, the sound vibrating through Zac's body and causing him to fuck Jordan's mouth even harder. He was completely shameless, concerned only with getting off.

When he finally did, he could have sworn he felt the orgasm from the top of his head all the way down to his toes. His hips left the seat entirely and he held Jordan's head in place, forcing him to swallow. Zac realized he probably should have asked first or at least warned him, but he wasn't sure he was capable of speech. Or would be capable of it ever again.

Zac didn't even have the energy to tuck himself back into his pants, but thankfully, Jordan took care of that for him, even pressing another soft kiss to his crotch once the pants were zipped and buttoned again. It was a sweet gesture, but Zac felt a little dirty and cheap. He didn't want Jordan to think he was just using him, but he had no clue where to begin. Getting off had sobered him up just enough to remember that he wasn't bisexual. Probably. He wasn't really certain anymore.

Jordan slid back into the seat, his movements fluid and catlike, and practically crawled into Zac's lap. That was a good start, Zac decided. It made things—what things, he wasn't yet sure—easier for him, more accessible. He grabbed a fistful of Jordan's hair and crushed their lips together again. Hesitantly, he let his hand creep up Jordan's smooth, strong thigh. His skirt was already bunched up, barely covering anything, Zac realized. He let his eyes flicker downward, failing completely at stifling his groan when he saw Jordan's cock straining against a pair of lacy red panties.

“You don't... have to do anything you don't want...” Jordan breathed out against Zac's lips.

Zac nodded. His brain was screaming at him that this was his chance to get away with his straightness almost intact, but he hand wasn't listening. It continued to creep up Jordan's thigh and into his panties. He was big, bigger than Zac, and he didn't think he had it in him to try to suck him off. A hand job, though, he could manage that. He could manage it well, if Jordan's moans and whimpers were anything to judge by.

The way Jordan wiggled against him made Zac's dick swell again, but he tried to ignore that. He could take care of that later. Right now he just wanted to return the favor and even the score a bit. He let his other hand creep up Jordan's shirt, which was just sheer enough to see his hand's progress. Zac couldn't resist slipping his hand into Jordan's bra, and wasn't surprised to find that it was more padding than anything else. It ruined the illusion a bit, but then again, the fact that he was jerking Jordan off was a pretty big reminder that Jordan really wasn't a woman. He pinched Jordan's nipple anyway, just to see what sort of reaction it would earn him.

“Zac, I...” Jordan gasped out, trembling against Zac. His eyes caught Zac's for a moment, widening and filling with... something. Zac was still too drunk to be certain what he was seeing. Seconds later, Jordan shook his head and let his eyes flutter shut. His head fell back and Zac understood what he'd been trying to him.

Warm wetness filled Zac's hand as Jordan trembled even harder against him, a series of beautiful moans falling from his lips. Zac started to panic, unsure what he was supposed to do, not having thought the hand job through all the way. With a soft chuckle, Jordan pulled Zac's hand up to his mouth and licked it clean, sucking on his fingers obscenely, mimicking his earlier motions. Zac had to close his eyes before the sight of it cause him to come again.

Zac didn't know how long he sat there with his eyes closed, but when he finally remembered to open them, Jordan had smoothed down his skirt and was patting his hair back into place. Zac had no clue what to say or do now, but thankfully, Jordan seemed to sense his nervousness and gave him a soft smile.

“Listen, I took a cab here, but I'm pretty sober now... if you need me to drive you back... I know we just met, but I'm a good driver. I can call myself another cab once I get there. And I promise I'm not a serial killer or a rapist.”

It felt like something of a brush off to Zac, like Jordan wanted rid of him. But what else could they do? Zac wasn't sure he wanted to go any further than they had; he wasn't sure if, when he was sober, he would be happy they'd gone that far. Letting Jordan take him home and drop him off seemed like a good idea.

Finally, Zac shrugged. “Yeah, alright. You don't look like a serial killer... or a rapist...”

“Can't rape the willing,” Jordan replied, smirking a little. He held out his hand. “Keys?”

Zac handed him the keys, then shamelessly stared as Jordan climbed into the front seat, giving Zac an excellent view of his panty-clad ass as he did so. As Jordan started the car, Zac settled into the backseat and rattled off directions to his apartment. The backseat was comfortable, and he had a feeling he'd be asleep there before the short drive was over. Sleep sounded like a great idea right then. Sleep now, he decided, and worry about redefining his sexuality in the morning.


	3. Guilty

Zac woke up the next morning with a pounding headache. For a moment, he couldn’t even think of a good reason why his head would be aching so much. Then he remembered that he had finally agreed to go out with Shaun and Drew. A night out with them meant plenty of drinking, which would account for both the headache and the way the room turned a somersault when Zac tried to push himself up to a sitting position. 

After waiting a moment for the bed to stop rocking back and forth, Zac finally put his feet on the floor and cautiously stood up. New pains shot from the bottom of his feet all the way to the top of his head with every step he took, and with each one he vowed that he would never go out clubbing with his friends again.

It was a hollow promise, he knew. Even when he’d had Carly to nag him every time he came home smelling like a distillery, it hadn’t totally broken him of the partying habit. 

At the thought of Carly, Zac’s stomach turned. He leaned against the wall and tried to remember just what he had done the previous night. He hadn’t seen her, had he? That seemed unlikely; Carly was too studious and serious for that sort of club. Or any sort of club. Yet the pang that he felt in his stomach was almost like guilt.

What _had_ he done?

The alcohol seemed to have obscured whatever it was that Zac needed to remember, and so he decided to dismiss it for the moment. Instead, he decided that a pot of coffee was in order. Not just a cup. Only the whole pot would do, he was sure. 

While Zac waited for his coffee to brew, he sat down on a barstool and cradled his aching head. It didn’t help. His hand fell onto the counter and smacked into something sharp. His car keys. Underneath them was a slip of paper that looked suspicious like a bar receipt, with some chicken scratch scrawled across it.

_Thanks for a great time last night. I didn’t want to overstay my welcome and you passed out practically as soon as we got inside, anyway. Hope you had a good time, too.  
-Jordan_

Jordan. 

It all came crashing down on Zac then. Images flew through his brain at the speed of light, and if the note hadn’t been sitting right in front of him, he wouldn’t have believed that any of it had happened. But it had. He’d let himself fall for a guy in drag—albeit a convincing one, but still a guy—and they had fooled around in the back of his car. Zac wasn’t even gay. At least, he didn’t think he was. It was too early and he was too hungover to really consider whether or not fooling around with a drag queen made him gay or just gullible. And drunk. Very, very drunk.

But Jordan had been sweet. He had listened and let Zac pour out his heart without judging him. And, Zac remembered, he had driven him home and helped him into bed—not an easy task in Zac’s state. Even the note itself proved that Jordan wasn’t just some sleazy bar hookup. He was a decent guy.

And somewhat in spite of himself, Zac wanted to see him again.

The only way to know how he really felt about this guy and if he really wasn’t entirely straight was to see him again, Zac decided. As he drank his coffee and felt the fog of alcohol drifting away, he only became more resolute. He _had_ to see Jordan again. He had to know if what he had felt when shitfaced was still there when sober.

There was just one problem. Zac had no idea how to find this mysterious stranger.

Jordan hadn’t left a phone number, an address or even a surname. The short note and a hazy memory of his face and body were all Zac had to go on, and that wasn’t much. Was there some detail Jordan had told him that might reveal his identity? If there was, the alcohol had erased it from Zac’s memory.

As he finished his coffee and tried to scrub off the bar smell in the shower, Zac ran over and over the night before in his mind, trying to dredge up more details that might have escaped him. It only came back to him in bits and pieces that were all but useless. The situation seemed hopeless, yet Zac was determined. 

That determination left him feeling rejuvenated and full of energy to get all the work he had been procrastinating on done. A quick look at the coffee pot’s clock when he wandered back into the kitchen, now clean and fully dressed, revealed that the library on campus would be open for a few more hours. He had slept in late, thanks to his hangover, but he could still get caught up on his coursework… if he could keep his mind off Jordan.

A few short minutes later, he had walked the distance to campus, Jordan on his mind the entire time. He was a little disappointed to see that Melissa was working again, especially when she glanced up from the desk and gave him a shy smile. On the other hand, maybe she could help him. She did seem to like him, after all, so Zac was sure that if anyone would be willing to aid him on a wild goose chase, it would be her.

“I think your usual study room is taken,” Melissa said softly as Zac walked up to the desk.

“Oh, that’s alright,” Zac replied. “I was actually going to ask you something. I mean, librarians are supposed to know everything, right?”

She blushed a little. “Well, I’m only a work study, but sure, I guess.”

“See, I need to find somebody,” Zac explained, stepping in a little closer to the desk. “And I know it’s not always easy. I mean, if you know someone’s name but nothing else, you can find plenty of people that _might_ be them online. But what if you just have a first name? I’m pretty sure he—they live in Austin, but that’s all I can say for sure.”

“It’s really going to take a little more than that, I’m afraid,” Melissa replied. “Could they be a student here? You might look through other students’ Facebook friends then. A place of employment could be a good starting place, too, especially if it’s somewhere small.”

Zac bit down on his lip as he considered that. Was Jordan a student at UT? He could have been. It was tough to even know how old he was with all that makeup. He could have been older; his demeanor, or what Zac could remember of it, suggested that he was. The next question, then, was where he worked. Finally, Zac shook his head. “I think maybe, umm, maybe a department store? I don’t remember which one.”

“Well, that’s a start,” Melissa replied, then giggled softly, almost sheepishly. “I suppose you could check out every department store in Austin, but that might take a while. How important is it to you to find this person?”

“Pretty important,” Zac admitted. “But maybe not _that_ important. Thanks anyway.”

“You’re welcome.” 

He was sure Melissa wanted to say more, but he didn’t give her the chance before walking away. It would be ridiculous to put that much time and effort into searching for Jordan. More than that, just considering it made him feel guilty for not putting more effort into finding Taylor. Sure, he had googled and turned up several addresses and phone numbers that _might_ have been his brother, but without any clue where Taylor even lived, none of his online detective work amounted to much. The thought of calling all of those numbers was too much for him; what would he even say if one of them _was_ Taylor? Eventually he just… gave up. If he tried harder than that to find some guy he’d met and hooked up with at a club, what kind of horrible, sleazy asshole did that make him?

Zac decided not to even try to answer that question for himself.

Not knowing what else to do, Zac decided to do exactly what he’d come to the library to do—study. He padded up the stairs to the second floor to find another study room since apparently his preferred one was taken. That didn’t surprise him, since he rarely made his way out this early. The library was too crowded for his liking in the afternoons. Late nights were much better for avoiding people.

People such as his ex-girlfriend, who was sitting right in the middle of the room at a large table, books and papers surrounding her.

He should have run. He should have turned on his heels and beat a hasty retreat before Carly could spot him. But, of course, Zac was frozen on the spot. It was the first time he’d seen her in more than in passing, across a long distance on campus, since their breakup. Art history grad students and law students didn’t really cross paths a lot on a campus so big. It had made things easier, really, knowing that they wouldn’t have to interact again.

So much for that.

“Zac,” Carly said, her head shooting up and something Zac thought was surprise showing in her eyes. 

Well, he had been spotted. It was too late to back away now. “Umm, hey. Carly. Hey.”

“How are you?” She asked, her eyes narrowing as she looked him over. She didn’t bother standing up or closing the distance between them and for that Zac was grateful. He had no desire to be near her, didn’t even know what he would do if he was close enough to touch her… especially after what he had done the night before.

He shrugged. “I’m okay, I guess.”

“Are you getting enough sleep?” Carly asked, the words sounding more mechanical than like she actually cared. “You always run yourself ragged at the end of the semester. You look like you could use a good night’s sleep.”

Zac was sure he looked even worse than that, but he didn’t feel like hashing out all—or any of—the reasons why with Carly. He didn’t know why she even bothered to act as though she cared, unless it was just another opportunity to criticize him. 

“You should take some time to relax,” Carly said. “Get some rest. I don’t like seeing you like this.”

“Yeah,” Zac mumbled, not bothering to point out that Carly was a big part of the reason why he’d been a mess lately. She knew. He was sure she knew; she wasn’t dumb enough to think she could leave him the way she did and not tear him apart in the process. Oblivious and uncaring, maybe, but not dumb. “I’ll do that… I guess.”

Not feeling like working on anything anymore, Zac finally managed to uproot his feet from the floor and turn around. He hurried back down the stairs before Carly could say anything else to him. She was being nice, though, wasn’t she? Compared to how she could be, commenting on how tired he looked—which he was sure was nothing compared to how tired he felt—wasn’t so bad. 

So why did it bother him so much to see her again?

There were two answers to that, Zac supposed. The easiest answer, of course, was that he still loved her. A part of him did; that was obvious. If he didn’t, losing her wouldn’t still hurt. He could accept that she wasn’t the nicest person and that the way she had ended their relationship only further proved that point. But that didn’t change the feelings he had for her.

That wasn’t the only reason why he couldn’t stand to see her, though. And the other reason was far more complicated.

He felt guilty. The things he had done with Jordan… how could he have done that if he was still in love with someone else? In his drunken state, he’d convinced himself that it was okay, but was it? Was it okay on any level? He knew Carly would never take him back, so it didn’t truly matter. But how could he act as though his heart was still broken if he could also so willingly jump into bed with not just someone else, but someone _male_?

Zac didn’t have any good answers for himself. Nothing that had happened over the past twenty four hours made any sense to him. Yet he couldn’t help thinking that if he could only see Jordan again, perhaps he could begin to make sense of it all.


	4. Can and Can't

Zac was embarrassed by how long it took him to come to the obvious conclusion. Of course the easiest way to see Jordan again was to go back to the club where they had met. Drew had been surprised when Zac approached him about going out again the next weekend, but he’d eventually agreed it. Drew was less pushy than Shaun, so Zac figured it was safest to ask him. He wouldn’t make such a big deal out of it. And luckily for Zac, neither of them seemed to have any memory of the stranger Zac had met the weekend before.

“Alright,” Drew said, slamming his shot glass down on the bar. “You sure you’ll be okay on your own?”

“Yeah,” Zac replied. His own shot was still burning his throat, but he needed the extra dose of courage it gave him. “Go on, I bet that girl’s here again—what did you say her name was? Julie?”

“Julianna,” Drew corrected, giving Zac a sheepish smile.

That was the other reason why Zac had chosen Drew to come back to the club with him. Drew was still smitten with the girl he had, shockingly, picked up the weekend before. All Zac needed to do was convince Drew to text her and see if she was coming out again—she was—and he had both a friend to accompany him and something to distract Drew while he searched for Jordan.

The problem was, Zac really didn’t know how to begin. If Jordan was a regular, then perhaps the bartender knew him. Zac didn’t really relish the idea of asking the bartender if he’d seen a really hot dude in a dress, though. Instead, Zac decided just to sit at the bar, getting progressively less sober, and hope that Jordan eventually materialized.

When he finally did, Zac could have sworn that the actual air in the bar changed. There was an almost tangible electric charge to it, a tingle running up Zac’s back before he even saw Jordan. He turned his head and his suspicions were confirmed. A tall, thin figure had just walked through the door, headed for the bar, and even though his memory was tainted by alcohol, Zac recognized him immediately. This time, he wore a skin tight blue dress but his lips were just as cherry red as Zac remembered and his eyes sparkled under a heavy coat of glitter. 

“Fancy seeing you again,” Jordan said as he closed the space between them. Although he smiled pleasantly enough, Zac wasn’t entirely sure that Jordan was so happy to see him again.

“You—you remember me,” Zac said dumbly.

“Of course I do,” Jordan replied. “I hope you don’t think I’m that much of a slut, although I suppose I can where you’d get that impression.”

Zac shook his head. “No, I didn’t mean—it’s just, well, the whole night is a bit hazy for me. I didn’t know how much you would remember.”

Jordan’s eyes darkened a bit, Zac thought, but he couldn’t be sure. The heavily painted lids obscured them as Jordan lowered his head for a moment. Finally, he lifted it again, his smile much smaller than it had been. “I wasn’t quite as far gone as you were. My memory is good. Very good.”

“And _you_ were very good,” Zac replied, surprising himself both with his words and the husky tone his voice took on. Was he flirting? He was flirting. He sat his whiskey down on the bar, deciding perhaps he’d had enough.

“Zac,” Jordan said, reaching out to rest his hand gently on Zac’s arm. “What we did… it was fun. I’m not trying to deny that. I meant what I said in the note I left you. I do truly hope that you had a good time and you aren’t over thinking what it means for you. I know it was… a first for you.”

“It was,” Zac agreed. “But you didn’t… you didn’t leave a number or any way for me to contact you again. So how could you say you wanted to do it again but not give me some way to find you?”

“Well, you found me, didn’t you?” Jordan asked, a flirty smirk gracing his lips for a fraction of a second before his face darkened again. “I meant everything else I said, but… honestly, a big part of me was trying to let you down gently. Give you an out if you didn’t want to see me again. You were drunk. Shitfaced, really. Who knew if you would even feel the same way when sober?”

“But I did.” Zac was starting to feel pathetic. Was he the only one here who felt anything? He’d had too much to drink again, he supposed, because he couldn’t make sense of this at all.

“I’m sure you did,” Jordan replied, finally pulling his hand back from Zac’s arm. “But here you are, drunk again. Are you truly sure you felt the same way, if you had to be drunk to see me again?”

Zac shook his head. “I didn’t mean… it’s not like that. I mean, yeah, I was nervous. So I had a few drinks. That’s not a crime, is it?”

“I just wouldn’t feel right if I let you jump into something that, while your body may be saying it wants, your mind isn’t so sure about. And that’s the message I’m getting from you here.”

“I don’t understand. Are you… you really saying that you don’t want…” Zac trailed off. He sounded pathetic, begging this guy to be with him. 

Jordan gave him a sad smile. “I just think you need to put some more thought into what you’re doing here. That’s all. If this is really what you want… well, we’ll see how that changes things. But for right now, I’m not sure this is best for either of us.”

Zac could do little more than stare at Jordan and shake his head. Any sort of intelligent argument against what Jordan had said was beyond him. 

“Now,” Jordan said, painting on a well-rehearsed fake smile. “I’m going to go make my rounds. But it was good to see you again. I mean that. Truly.”

“Yeah,” Zac replied weakly as he watched Jordan walk away. “Good to see you again, too.”

He couldn’t watch Jordan walk away. Instead, he turned back to the bar and downed the rest of his whiskey. Then ordered another. Maybe Jordan had a point about how much he was drinking. But it wasn’t to change his mind, was it? It was just for the courage to do something that was brand new to him. It didn’t mean that he didn’t feel the same way sober. It just didn’t.

But how could he convince Jordan of that?

Zac ordered one more beer, but it didn’t help to clear his head. He didn’t think anything could, except perhaps some real answers from Jordan. Some closure. He realized that was what he yearned for from Carly, too, and while he knew it wasn’t fair to pin all of that frustration on this new stranger, right then he couldn’t help himself. It just wasn’t fair for Jordan to blow him off without giving Zac a chance to understand what he felt. 

With that thought in mind, he hopped off his bar stool and stumbled around the bar until he saw the now familiar blonde curls standing by the front door, chatting with the bouncer.

“Jordan,” Zac said. “Can you not—can we just talk? About this… about us…”

The bouncer raised an eyebrow at Zac and flashed Jordan a questioning look. Jordan just shook his head, as if to assure him that there was nothing to worry about. With a small sigh, he took Zac’s hand and said, “Okay. But let’s go outside. You look like you need some fresh air.”

Zac nodded and let himself be pulled outside by Jordan, shamelessly staring at his ass as they went. It was straining against the material of the dress, perfectly round and just feminine enough to pass. And Zac just wanted to touch it, to touch all of Jordan, to feel his confusingly feminine and masculine body pressed up against his. 

“Well?” Jordan asked, finally coming to a stop several yards away from the club’s door where no one else was around to eavesdrop on their conversation. “Did you have… something else to say?”

Zac tried to compose himself and gather his thoughts, but the fog of alcohol made it difficult. Finally, he dove right in. “It’s just, I guess… well… how can I figure out what I really want if you won’t see me again? I know how I think I feel about you, I know what we did, but I don’t know… all I know is I want you again. I want more. I want to know if this is really what I want, and it’s not about whether I’m gay or straight or whatever. It’s about _you_. So how can I figure it out without you?”

“Oh, Zac,” Jordan replied, reaching out to brush his cheek. “It is about me, though. You’re right. And I can’t… I don’t know how to make you understand, but I can’t do that for you. I can’t be with you again. It’s not about you, anything you are or anything you did. It’s about me, and if I told you more than that… well, you wouldn’t like me very much.”

“How can you know that until you’ve told me whatever it is?” Zac asked.

“You just have to trust me on this. It would change everything, and not for the better. Just please… trust me on this.”

Zac shook his head. “Trust _me_. I know we’ve just met, but why can’t you trust that I’m a good enough person not to hate you for whatever you think is so awful?”

“I can’t,” Jordan replied, the word catching in his throat a little. “I can’t, Zac. Because there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that if you got to know me just a little bit more, you would hate me forever. I can’t risk that. That’s why I wanted to leave it where it was. Just one good night that you hopefully wouldn’t dwell on forever. I’m so sorry that… that, I don’t know, you got more attached than that. I didn’t anticipate that you would seek me out again.”

“I don’t understand,” Zac said. 

“No, you don’t,” Jordan replied. “That’s the point. And I hope you _don’t_ understand. I know it doesn’t make any sense, but I promise, I’m doing this for your sake.”

Zac knew he was pouting, but he didn’t care. “For once in my life, it would really be nice if people would let me make my own decisions and believe that I’m capable of knowing what I want.”

“I’m so sorry.” Jordan stepped in closer and placed both of his hands on Zac’s cheeks. “I wish that I could fix that for you. I really do. And I wish I could help you to understand why it has to be this way, but all I can do is promise you that it does. If I could… if I could make it different, believe me, I would.”

“Will I ever understand? Someday?” Zac asked, finding himself strangely on the verge of tears. He hadn’t cried since the day he found Carly with Byron; in spite of his pathetic, melancholy personality, he really wasn’t a crier.

Jordan shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe. But for now, we have to leave it here. We _have_ to.”

Before Zac could protest again, Jordan turned and walked away. There wasn’t as much sway in his hips as usual, and it made Zac wonder just how much this was hurting him. Zac wasn’t even sure why it hurt _him_ so much to have someone he barely knew walk away from him and tell him it was over. He supposed he was just tired of having his heart broken, tired of being told what he could and couldn’t have. 

And, apparently, he couldn’t have Jordan.


	5. A Favor

“Have you given any more thought to your dissertation topic?”

“Not really,” Zac replied. He knew it wasn’t at all what Dr. Gould wanted to hear, but it was the truth. He could have lied, and perhaps he should have, but he was too tired to bother. 

The real truth was that for days all he had thought about was Jordan, yet he had come no closer to understanding what had happened. 

Jordan had assured Zac that he had done nothing wrong and that the reason they couldn’t see each other again lie entirely on his shoulders, but Zac didn’t buy it. What could have changed? What _did_ change other than the sober light of day making Jordan realize he didn’t want a supposedly straight guy like Zac with tons and tons of baggage?

Abruptly, Zac realized that Dr. Gould was still droning on. “Now, your work last semester was very insightful. I thought you had some very unique things to say about Georgia O’Keeffe, and I would fully support exploring those ideas further.”

He nearly snorted at that. When his entire sexuality had suddenly been called into question, Zac couldn’t really imagine himself devoting a year’s work to analyzing glorified vagina paintings. Of course, he couldn’t tell his advisor that, and so he just nodded politely and made a small murmur that he hoped Dr. Gould would interpret as consideration of his suggestion.

“But ultimately, it comes to down what _you_ want to work on. This is going to be your focus for the next several months, so it has to be something that interests you.”

Zac found himself suddenly flashing back to an afternoon spent at a museum with Taylor. It had been one of the last times they’d gotten to spend a lot of time before shit had hit the fan. They’d laughed about how lame it was for two teenage boys to go the museum together, but to Zac, it was the best Saturday afternoon he could have imagined. 

“Cannon,” Zac blurted out. “I mean, T. C. Cannon. There’s an exhibit of his art back in Tulsa. I always liked it. Maybe I can do something with that—he’s from Oklahoma, and there are definite Native American themes in his work, but it’s modern, too.”

“Part of the Kiowa Six, I think?” Dr. Gould replied, nodding. “You could do something with that, yes. You would have an interesting perspective on his work.”

With something of a decision made, they wrapped up the meeting quickly—Zac perhaps a little more quickly than his professor. He felt guilty for wanting to be gone so soon, but he couldn’t take much more lecturing about the declining quality of his classwork. He’d hit rock bottom when things ended with Carly, but with thoughts of Jordan distracting him all hours of the day, he was drifting even further away from his classes. 

Who was Zac kidding? He was drifting away from his entire life.

He hadn’t even paid attention to where he was going when he left the meeting, and in spite of the sheer size of the University of Texas’s campus, it seemed the universe conspired to make it that much smaller just for him. Every time he was on campus lately, he had spotted Carly and a few of those times, she had spotted him, too.

And this time, just to make things that much better, she wasn’t alone. 

While her head was turned, laughing obnoxiously at some no doubt stupid joke Byron had just made, Zac ducked around the nearest corner. Maybe neither of them had spotted him. He could only hope. He couldn’t stop himself from glancing back to make sure—only to collide with something small and soft.

“Oh, Zac!” Melissa cried out in surprise. 

Zac blinked, and the sight of Melissa trying to gather up the papers he had apparently knocked out of her hands came into focus in front of him. He shouldn’t have been surprised, he supposed. If there was a way for his day to get worse, it was bound to happen. With a heavy sigh, he bent down and picked up some of Melissa’s books and papers.

“Thank you so much,” she said, smiling. “I’m so clumsy sometimes, I swear.”

Zac shook his head. “No, no… it was me. Sorry.”

“Were you headed to the library? I’m actually not working this afternoon. For once.”

“Oh, no,” Zac replied, trying to ignore the obvious desperation in Melissa’s voice. “I’m actually on my way home. I just had a meeting with my—”

“Zac, hey!” Another voice called out from behind, and Zac knew before he turned around that it was Shaun. Anything to make his day worse. Anything. And everything. Shaun clapped Zac on the back a little too hard, nearly sending him flying into Melissa, and said, “Hey, man. Haven’t seen you around for a while.”

“I’ve been busy.” It wasn’t a total lie. It was just that the truth involved a lot more thinking about Jordan than working on his thesis. 

“Well, it’s good to see you around,” Shaun replied, then turned to Melissa and slipped on the charm. “And you, too. It’s Melissa, right? My man Zac here was telling me about how you’re his favorite librarian.”

Melissa blushed, and Zac contemplated whether or not he could just crawl under the sidewalk and hide.

“I’m sure he didn’t say that,” she said softly. “And anyway, I’m just a work study. I love it, but I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“You’re an English major, though, aren’t you?” Shaun asked, and Zac wondered how he could even know that, even if he did work in admissions. He was probably just trying to show off. “You liberal arts majors. I just don’t get you guys. But I’m sure you two would have plenty to talk about that I wouldn’t understand at all.”

Zac shot Shaun a warning look. He had a feeling he knew where Shaun was going with this, and he was definitely going to have to kill him for it. There was no way around it. 

“In fact, weren’t you talking about getting together Freedman’s this weekend? I meant to tell you; I can’t make it. But I’m sure Melissa here would be fantastic company. You like Freedman’s, right?”

The last question was directed at Melissa, and she nodded eagerly. Zac doubted that. She didn’t look like the beer garden and barbecue type. But the deed was done. Shaun had finally accomplished his goal of getting Zac a date, and so there was no way Zac could back out now.

“Yeah, it’s great,” Melissa replied, a smile on her face that seemed more sincere than her words. 

Shaun clapped Zac on the back again. “Well, that’s settled. You guys enjoy dinner for me, alright? Thursday at seven, wasn’t it?”

“Umm, yeah,” Zac choked out. He was going to kill Shaun. He was definitely going to kill Shaun.

Melissa actually batted her eyelashes at Zac, although it came off more awkward than flirty. “I’ll see you then.”

“We can, just, umm,” Zac sputtered. “We can meet there. My car’s a deathtrap; I couldn’t drive you there.” 

“Oh, that’s fine. I’m sure we’ll have a great time anyway.”

Zac just nodded and waved weakly as Melissa bid him goodbye and walked away. Once she was gone, he spun around to look at Shaun.

“What?” Shaun threw his hands up, as is to feign innocence. “Tell me what I did wrong by getting you date. Seriously. Because that? That was a favor. You should be thanking me, not trying to shoot death rays at me out of your eyes.”

Zac gritted his teeth. “They clearly aren’t working. You’re not dead.”

“Look, man, she’s a dork, but she’s cute. Get a few drinks in her and I’m sure she’ll loosen up.”

“That’s really not the problem,” Zac replied.

“Then what’s the problem?” Shaun asked. “I know you don’t have any other plans.”

Zac sighed. He couldn’t explain the problem to Shaun, he realized. Shaun had no clue about the Jordan thing, because he knew he would never live it down if he told his friends he had a pathetic crush on a drag queen. There was just no way to make that sound good. And so there was nothing he could tell Shaun to explain why going on a date with Melissa was one of the last things he wanted to spend his Friday night doing.

“That’s what I thought,” Shaun replied after several seconds of awkward silence from Zac. “You’ll have a great time, I promise. And if you don’t, I don’t want to hear about it, because I know the only problem here is you being depressed. Sometimes you really just gotta snap out of it, and I can’t think of a better way than with a hot chick.”

There was no way Zac could reason or argue with that. Shaun was a good friend. He really was. But he was too relentlessly upbeat, and too lucky to be able to go through his life that way, to understand Zac’s life. Zac was realizing that would always be their problem, and it was just easiest to stop trying to fight it. If that meant enduring what would probably be the worst date of his life just to get Shaun off his back, then that was just what it meant.

“Yeah, alright,” Zac said. He heaved a sigh. Hopefully that would be the end of the conversation; if he just agreed and went along with what Shaun said, maybe his friend would drop it.

Shaun grinned. “Alright. And I don’t wanna hear any whining about it. You’ll have fun. I know it.”

Zac let Shaun go on for a minute or two longer about what he should and shouldn’t do on his first _first_ date in years, but he quickly tuned him out. Zac didn’t care. If he simply showed up and managed not to panic and leave early, he figured that was a big enough success. He doubted Melissa would be expecting much more of him than that anyway.

Finally, satisfied that he had done his part and played matchmaker, Shaun bid Zac goodbye and rushed off to some freshmen orientation or something. Zac was’t really listening. He was just glad Shaun was finally _done_.

Once the two went their separate ways, Zac scurried off campus as quickly as possible, before he could have a run-in with someone else he didn’t want to see. Not that there was anyone he _did_ want to see—except Jordan, of course.

He still had no clue what had happened there, but it didn’t stop him from thinking about it constantly.

What could be so horrible that Jordan thought Zac would never want to see him again? What could be that horrible about anyone, aside from ax murderers or pedophiles? He highly doubted Jordan was either of those. 

No, it had to be an excuse. Jordan didn’t want to see him. No one did.

Except Melissa. 

The worst part of being all but forced to go on a date with her, Zac decided, wasn’t that it would be just this side of torture for him. It was that she didn’t deserve to be brought into the clusterfuck that his life was. Still not over his ex, yet falling for a crossdresser—he had no doubt at all that neither of those were qualities Melissa was looking for in a boyfriend. She might have what seemed like a pretty hopeless crush on him, but even she had to have some standards. He hoped that she would decide, without having to learn all of his deep dark secrets, that she could do so, so much better than a hot mess like him. 

If she didn’t figure that out on her own… well, Zac was a little afraid of the lengths he might have to go to in order to prove it to her.


	6. Taylor

Zac had insisted upon meeting Melissa at the restaurant, in hopes of making the date as much _not_ like a date as possible. In his haste to get it over with, he had shown up early, leaving him standing awkwardly on the sidewalk waiting for Melissa. When he finally saw her walking up, he forced a smile.

Seeing her only made Zac feel guiltier about the whole thing. Melissa really was cute, especially outside of her usual library environment. She wore a short sundress and just a little bit of makeup, but it was enough for the effect to be fairly stunning. Was this the same nerdy girl Zac had been trying to ignore all semester? He suddenly saw what Shaun seemed to see, but in spite of the twinge of guilt in his stomach, he couldn’t honestly say he was interested in her.

Freedman’s was busy on a Friday night, so there was little room for small talk while the two of them made their way inside and waited to be seated. The crowd was raucous and Zac couldn’t help thinking Melissa looked horribly out of place amongst the frat guys and girls in tight skirts at the bar. He supposed he probably looked out of place, too. He certainly felt it.

Finally, after ordering and having their drinks—Lone Star for Zac and a glass of something sparkling that he couldn’t pronounce for Melissa—delivered, the two were able to breathe a bit and truly begin their date.

“I’m sorry about this,” Melissa said suddenly. 

Zac stared at her blankly. “Sorry? For what?”

“I’m not an idiot, Zac,” she replied. “I know Shaun set this all up. I appreciate that you went along with it and weren’t enough of a jerk to say to my face that you didn’t want to go out with me. And I don’t think you’re going to try to embarrass me now that we’re here. So… thanks.”

Zac stuttered a few non-words, unable to collect his thoughts in the face of such bluntness. He felt like an ass for being so obvious about his lack of interest in her, yet here she was _thanking_ him for also being spineless. Underneath the bluntness, though, was the same lack of self-esteem that Zac recognized all so well, and much like her sundress, that made him reconsider what he knew about this girl.

“Sorry,” she said when Zac was still speechless. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No,” Zac replied. “I mean, it’s okay. I’m just sorry that Shaun put us in this position. He can be a little… overbearing.”

Melissa tilted her head to the side. “Why do you put up with him, then? Although, I guess it kinda makes sense. I mean, if you’re shy, having an outgoing friend would balance things out.”

“I guess,” Zac replied. “All my friends are like that, though. Louder and friendlier than me. Lets me just fade into the background.”

Zac felt a little embarrassed for admitting something like that, and he was glad to see their food being delivered before he could stick his foot further into his mouth. He dug into his chicken barbeque while Melissa daintily ate her chili, and for a few minutes both of them were silent.

“Well,” Melissa finally said. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt us to at least pretend this is a normal date. Maybe we could get to know each other a little better.”

“How?” Zac asked, feeling idiotic and unprepared for how bold Melissa was outside of her usual environment. Perhaps he had completely misjudged her.

“Well, other than the fact that you like to study in room three and you’re an art history major, I don’t think I know anything about you.”

“What do you want to know?” Zac asked, trying not to sound defensive. The most interesting things about him weren’t things he really wanted to share with her.

Melissa shrugged. “For starters, where are you from? Why did you decide to come here? I’ll answer, too. I grew up in a tiny little town south of here, and my parents are obsessed with UT. There was no way I was going anywhere else. Plus, all things considered, it wasn’t too expensive, even after sending three other kids here.”

“You’re one of four?” Zac asked.

“Nope,” Melissa replied, shaking her head. “One of seven. I’m right in the middle. That’s why I work so much—it’s expensive as hell to send that many kids to college. The youngest ones won’t be here for a while, though.”

“Wow,” Zac breathed out. “I just had—have one brother.”

Melissa’s eyes widened, and Zac was sure she had caught his little slip-up. It was so easy to fall into thinking of Taylor in the past tense, even though that wasn’t fair. He had to be alive out there somewhere. Making a pretty obvious effort to keep her expression neutral, Melissa asked, “Did he go here, too?”

“No, he—” Zac broke off and sighed. She had inadvertently backed him into a corner. He would have to provide at least a few honest answers. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since I was fifteen. Our parents… they, umm, they kicked him out.”

“That’s horrible!” Melissa screeched, then clapped her hand over her mouth, finally showing some signs of the shyness Zac was used to. It was pointless; the restaurant was so loud that not even the table next to them had noticed her outburst. “My parents can be kind of crazy, but I can’t imagine… I mean, how could someone do that to their own child?”

“It wasn’t… it wasn’t really like that. I mean, they didn’t make him pack a bag and hit the road or anything. But they made it pretty clear that once he graduated high school, he wasn’t welcome in their home anymore. He was on his own.”

“And he just left?” Melissa asked. “You haven’t spoken to him at all?”

Zac shook his head. “They also made it pretty clear that I wasn’t going to have anything to do with him anymore. That he was a bad influence or whatever.”

Melissa just shook her head in disbelief, and Zac wasn’t sure how to make it any clearer without just saying it. He supposed he didn’t have a choice now that they’d gone down this road.

“He was…” Zac began, then sighed. “Taylor… my brother… he was—he _is_ gay. I never told our parents, because I knew to some extent how they would react, but I knew. If I had known what they would have done… how badly they would have taken it, I would have tried to protect him. I don’t know. I guess I couldn’t have done anything. Once he got caught with his—his boyfriend or whatever, they just lost it.”

“Oh, Zac,” Melissa breathed out, reaching her hand across the table to grasp his. “I really am sorry about this date now. As if it wasn’t bad enough, now we’re having the most depressing first date conversation ever.”

“I’m a pretty depressing guy,” Zac admitted. “Between that and getting cheated on by the girl I thought I was going to marry, I’m not exactly a ray of sunshine.”

Melissa gave him a weak smile. “Then I’ll have to be cheerful enough for both of us, huh? Wanna hear about the time I tried to pledge a sorority?”

Zac wasn’t sure that he really did, but he nodded anyway and took a long sip of his beer while Melissa began her tale. As she talked, becoming more and more animated throughout her story of brainless bleach blondes and insane parties, Zac decided she wasn’t so bad. Somehow, knowing that he wasn’t interested in her actually seemed to let her relax and show her personality more; he supposed she saw no reason to try to impress him anymore. What she probably didn’t realize was that he liked this girl better than the timid one he saw in the library. He still had no interest in dating her, but maybe they could be friends. Having a friend who didn’t think getting laid was the way to cheer him up might be a good thing. 

Maybe Shaun’s plan had worked out after all—though not in exactly the way Shaun had intended, Zac supposed.

Until he’d downed three more Lone Stars and started to feel a little warm and fuzzy, Zac didn’t realize how long the two of them had been sitting there. Their waitress seemed a little bit more perturbed each time she returned to the table to make sure there wasn’t anything else she could get them, and they had talked so much, sharing so many stories, that it felt like he had known Melissa for years.

To Zac’s surprise, he was a little sad to see the date end. He insisted upon paying their bill, since he felt responsible for her being in such an awkward situation that she’d somehow made the best of. He took his time deciding how much to tip, and even drew out their walk out of the restaurant, growing more and more depressed as he thought of going home to his empty, lonely apartment. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to invite Melissa home with him and give her false hopes. 

But maybe…

 _No._ Zac shook his head slightly as he watched Melissa walk down the sidewalk toward her car. Raising his voice a little, he called out to her. “Melissa?”

“Yeah?” She asked, spinning back around to face him.

“I’m sorry about… well, you know. But I had fun. Maybe we can—I mean, just as friends? But maybe we can do this again.”

“Just as friends,” Melissa repeated, and Zac feared he had hurt her feelings. “I think that’s a great idea. I think we could both use a good friend. You especially.”

“Yeah, well,” Zac replied, suddenly feeling embarrassed—again. “But thanks. Seriously. I’ll see you at the library?”

Melissa smiled. “Yeah. See you later, Zac.”

Satisfied that they had parted on good terms and he hadn’t given her the wrong idea, Zac headed to his car and began the short drive back to his apartment. As he drove, he tried to decide what he would tell Shaun when he inevitably asked about the date. Zac really didn’t have a good plan for that, but that didn’t get him down. It had been a good night, even if it wasn’t really a date in the traditional sense.

He was in such a good mood that he only barely registered the strange car parked next to his usual spot in the apartment complex. It was a complex mostly occupied by college students; there were always different cars coming and going. The only truly unusual feature of this one were the piles of someone’s belongings—clothes, mostly, it seemed—heaped in the backseat all the way up to the roof. 

Locking his car, Zac turned away from the strange little sedan and didn’t give it another thought as he scurried up the stairs to his apartment. He hadn’t been happy about moving onto the second floor, but he was glad to be away from the one he’d shared with Carly, and this older section nearer the front of the complex was cheaper due to its un-remodeled condition. All in all, it wasn’t so bad, and in his current mood, Zac couldn’t even be too upset about the climb.

Until he reached the top of the stairs and saw a figure standing by his door.

With their back turned, there was no way Zac could know for certain, but his stomach still turned a somersault, some part of him deep inside recognizing what his brain couldn’t. When the tall, thin figure turned to face him, that instinct of Zac’s was confirmed.

It was Taylor.


	7. Pain

Zac couldn’t even manage to speak.

For years, he had imagined what it would be like to see Taylor again. He had wondered if he would recognize his brother. He did. Taylor was perhaps a bit thinner, if that was possible, but otherwise he looked the same as Zac remembered, just older. But every bit as dejected as he’d looked when their parents disowned him. It was that realization that finally set Zac’s feet in motion, carrying him across the short mezzanine to his brother.

He stopped just a foot short of Taylor and stared again. That close, Zac could see the silvery tracks of tears trailing down his face. 

“T-Taylor?” Zac finally gasped out.

His brother just nodded.

There were so many questions Zac wanted to ask, but right then, he couldn’t get any of the words to form. Instead, he just stepped to one side of Taylor and unlocked the door. He hopped his brother would take that as an invitation, and he seemed to. Zac spun back around once they were both inside and stared at Taylor, waiting for some sort of explanation.

“I, umm, I got kicked out of my apartment,” Taylor finally said. “I guess that’s kind of my thing. Getting kicked out. I just… didn’t know where else to go.”

A thought occurred to Zac. “Is that your car in the parking lot? With all the stuff?”

“Yeah.” Taylor nodded. “I had to ditch most of my furniture. Gave some away, sold some… left the rest by the curb. My landlord, he… well, I knew he never liked me. Kept saying I was being too loud and the neighbors were complaining, which was total bullshit. And after Devin—my ex—moved out, I was late on rent a few times. Then he says he never got last month’s and I have to go. I know I mailed it, and I thought surely it would turn up, but—well, anyway. Yeah. That’s my stuff. Everything I’ve got to my name.”

Zac’s mind was turning a million miles a minute, trying to sort through everything Taylor was saying and make sense of it all. He glanced at the kitchen, then back at Taylor. “Well, umm, I’ve got some beers. Help yourself to a drink. You’re lucky I moved into this apartment; it’s older so it’s cheaper even though it has an extra bedroom. Our old one didn’t. I’ll carry your stuff up if you wanna just relax and get settled in a bit.”

Taylor nodded, then fished his keys out of his pocket and tossed them to Zac. Without another word, Zac headed back out of the apartment. Something about the entire situation didn’t make sense, but for the moment, he was just glad to have his brother back. Even with the extra bedroom, it would be cramped, but Zac figured that was a small price to pay if he could begin to make up for the last eight years without Taylor.

He piled his arms down with several of Taylor’s bags and hurried back up the stairs as quickly as possible, taking them two at a time even with his arms loaded down. The apartment door stood an inch or so open, and Zac toed it the rest of the way open. A quick glance into the kitchen showed Taylor making himself at home with what looked like a cup of tea. Zac didn’t even know he had tea.

“Give me a second to set these down,” Zac called out, “and then I can set up the air mattress for you. It’s the best I’ve got for now. I’ll sleep on it; you can take my bed.”

“No, no,” Taylor replied, setting his tea down and rushing forward to grab one bag that threatened to fall from Zac’s arms. “I couldn’t do that. I know I’m putting you out enough as it is. An air mattress is fine.” 

Zac carried the bags into what he supposed was now Taylor’s room and sat them down. Taylor took his keys and went to fetch the rest while Zac began digging through the closet for an air mattress he’d bought before a camping trip with Shaun and Drew. 

As he unfolded and inflated it, he marveled at how his night had gone. First the date with Melissa, then Taylor turning up out of the blue. It seemed Taylor had been living in Austin for a while, and he’d had no clue. Had Taylor been here all along? And known Zac was here, too? He wondered why Taylor hadn’t come to him before, or how he had even found him at all. It didn’t quite make sense. He heard Taylor’s loud footsteps and clumsy thumps against the walls and decided he would have to ask him. Those were just the beginning of the questions he had for his brother.

“I’m almost done,” Zac said when a large foot nudged the door open.

“Oh!” Taylor cried out, one armful of luggage falling to the floor and scattering around. “I didn’t realize you were in here.”

Zac dropped the air mattress and fell to the floor to help Taylor pick up what had fallen. 

Taylor shoved him away. “No! I mean, I’ve got it.”

“It’s fine,” Zac said, picking up a small bag. “I don’t mind helping. With anything.”

“I said I’ve got it.” Taylor grabbed the bag harshly from Zac’s hands, sending its contents skittering to the floor. An assortment of powders, brushes and lipstick tubes littered the carpet. 

Zac’s brow furrowed as he looked up at Taylor for some sort of explanation. Taylor didn’t speak, but the explanation was written all over his face. Zac didn’t know how he hadn’t realized it sooner. Of course he had recognized Taylor right away; this wasn’t the first time they’d seen each other recently.

 _Jordan._

He had definitely been shitfaced if he hadn’t realized the tall blonde with his brother’s first name _was_ his brother.

He was going to be sick.

Zac shot up to his feet and climbed over Taylor, ignoring his brother’s cries. He dashed into the bathroom across the hall and locked the door behind him. With it securely shut, Zac fell to the floor, his ass hitting the tile with a harsh thump. How hadn’t he seen it? _This_ was the reason Jordan refused to see him again. 

He didn’t know how long he sat there in the floor, not crying or puking his guts out, surprisingly. Just staring at the shower wall. The door gave a small jolt and he realized Taylor must be on the other side.

“Zac,” he said weakly. “Please. Don’t do this.”

“You knew.”

“What?” Taylor asked.

“You _knew_. You knew it was me. Didn’t you? That was why—that was why you said I couldn’t see you again.”

Taylor was silent for a long time before nearly whispering. “Not at first, no. God, you’ve changed so much Zac. And I didn’t even know you lived in Austin. How could I have known it was you? How could I have… god, do you think this is any easier for me than it is for you?”

“I don’t know,” Zac spat out. “I don’t know what it’s like for you, and if you hadn’t been kicked out of your apartment, I guess I never would have.”

“I thought it was the right thing to do. I was trying to protect—“

“I don’t care what you were trying to do!”

A muffled sniffle came from the other side of the door. A twinge of pain shot through Zac’s chest, and he hated himself. He wasn’t sure what he felt guiltier for—snapping at Taylor or feeling sympathy for him. 

Finally, Zac sighed. “I’m not going to make you leave. Not tonight. I can’t just… I can’t make you sleep in your car. But after tonight, I don’t know. I don’t know if I can think about this enough to become okay with it. I don’t know if I can think about it at all. But just… for right now, just leave me alone.”

“Okay,” Taylor replied weakly.

Zac listened to the sound of his retreating footsteps. He wasn’t sure where Taylor had gone, but he wasn’t by the door anymore. Once Zac was sure of that, he allowed himself to cry. 

After eight years… after wondering… after nearly accepting that he would never see his brother again… _this_ was their reunion. 

It wasn’t fucking fair. 

For the first time since the breakup with Carly, Zac had felt something. Something good. There was another human being in the world capable of stirring up emotions in him. Then he was told—for no reason that he could—that he couldn’t have that person. And now, to find it had been his brother all along?

The worst part, Zac decided, was that he stilled wanted him. Not Taylor. Not his _brother_. But the person he had thought Jordan was. Sweet, mysterious Jordan. A person who didn’t really exist at all. 

For a moment, Zac thought he was going to be sick. He rested his head on the back of the bathroom door and willed the feeling to pass. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but what felt like only seconds later, he awoke with a sudden jolt. The bathroom lights hurt his eyes and it took a moment for the fog in his brain to dissipate so that he could remember why he had fallen asleep sitting in his bathroom floor.

Then he remembered. Taylor.

Zac strained to listen for any sound that might tell him that Taylor was still in the apartment, but it was silent except for muffled country music coming from the apartment next door. Maybe Taylor had left, Zac thought. He wasn’t sure he liked that idea; in spite of what Taylor had done, what he wasn’t even sure he could forgive him for, he didn’t want his brother to be homeless.

Slowly, because his body had become stiff from sitting there so long, Zac pulled himself to his feet and cautiously opened the bathroom door. A quick glance across the hallway revealed that the extra bedroom was empty. At least, there wasn’t a person in it. All of Taylor’s belongings were still strewn around the half-inflated air mattress. 

So where was Taylor?

Zac walked toward the kitchen, deciding that another beer wouldn’t hurt. It was doubtful that he would fall asleep again, anyway, in the mental state he was in. As he crossed through the living room, a slight movement from the couch caught his eye. 

It was Taylor, curled up into an impossibly small ball on the couch. He hadn’t even bothered to take his clothes off, and there were fresh tears making streaks next to the dried ones from earlier. 

It only made Zac feel worse to see Taylor like that, but still nothing about the situation made sense. How could Taylor do that to him? How could he not have known it was his own brother? How could his delicate, sensitive brother hurt him like that? A part of Zac wanted to scream at him, but seeing him lying there, looking so defeated, stopped him. And that only made Zac angrier. He couldn’t _hate_ Taylor. It wasn’t possible, no matter how much he wanted to right then. 

Tired and defeated, Zac decided to forego the beer, and padded back down the hallway to his bedroom. Maybe some of this would make sense in the morning. He doubted it. He could only hope to wake up and discover it had all been a horrible nightmare. In the morning, Zac would wake up eight years in the past, in a world where his parents hadn’t ruined everything by kicking Taylor out for something he couldn’t help. He would wake up never having lost his brother, never having to know that pain or the pain of finding him again.


	8. Family Reunion

When Zac woke up in the morning, he knew immediately that the previous night hadn’t been just a bad dream. The smell of coffee already brewing was his first indication. Zac never had the presence of mind to set the timer on his coffee pot--like Carly always did--and so he never woke up to that wonderful scent anymore. He smiled and reveled in it as he stretched his arms, but then he remembered _who_ was there and must be responsible for the brewing coffee.

If he could have stayed hidden in his bedroom all day, he would have, but Zac knew that wasn’t feasible. His professors were already clearly getting tired of his depressive state, and while he didn’t relish their stares in class, it was better than not showing up and giving them more reason to be convinced he wasn’t worthy of the program. Even if he half-assed all of his work, he could at least show up and plant his ass in a desk chair for a few hours. To do that, he had to leave his room and face his brother.

Sure enough, Taylor was sitting at the kitchen table cradling a mug of coffee in his hands and blowing on the steam trailing up out of it. His eyes were cloudy and distant, and perhaps just a little bit puffy as though he’d spent the night doing more crying than sleeping. Zac was sure he looked the same.

“Do you have class today?” Taylor asked, his eyes not focusing on Zac but instead staring off at some point just to his left.

“Yeah,” Zac replied. His voice was hoarse and gravelly, as though he had spent the night screaming. Only on the inside, he supposed, but he still felt drained. “Not until this afternoon.”

Taylor finally let his eyes fall on Zac, and Zac wished that he hadn’t. “So can we talk? If you don’t have to be anywhere right away.”

“I don’t know what else we have to talk about,” Zac replied, his voice not as harsh as the sentiment behind them, and Taylor still flinched as though he had been slapped.

“There’s plenty to talk about,” Taylor said softly, his tone betraying the confidence and conviction in his words. “I don’t just mean about… you know. But it’s been _eight years_ , Zac. You can’t dismiss that like it’s nothing because of one mistake that I swear to you I would take back if I could.”

Zac didn’t know how to respond to that. Instead, he turned his back to Taylor and poured himself a cup of coffee. Of course, there were a million questions running through his mind, but few he was ready to ask and hear the answer to. There was one that kept nagging him, though. He spun back around and sat down at the table, directly opposite Taylor.

“How long did you know?” Zac asked. “I mean, when did you realize it was me?”

Taylor shook his head, like he didn’t even want to think about the moment realization had hit him. “Not until I drove you home. There was a moment before that when I looked into your eyes and there was something… some weird twinge. But it was so faint, and I thought there was no way. I mean, you couldn’t be gay. No way. So the idea that it really could have been you, been _my_ Zac, seemed ridiculous. And anyway, even that wasn’t until we had—until it had already happened. But I didn’t know for sure until I drove you home and helped you into bed. And you’ve got that picture of us on your bedroom wall, from my high school graduation? I had never seen that picture before. But I recognized myself, of course. And that was when I knew. Not before. I promise.”

Zac nodded. That was one question answered, and it was the only question about _that_ he had any desire to ask, at least for the present. He took a long sip of his coffee, then asked, “So you get kicked out of your apartment and this is the first place you come?”

“No,” Taylor replied. “It wasn’t. Because I didn’t know how to do deal with… all of that. It was my last resort, I’ll be honest. But everyone else blew me off. I mean, I know some of them truly don’t have the room. I’m not mad. And it’s not like I know very many people here, anyway. A few people from the club and my coworkers. Not anyone I really trust, anyone I thought I could count on.”

“And you thought you could count on me?”

Taylor shook his head. “No. I really didn’t. Not after… I know you were young, Zac. But it would have been nice to have felt like I had somebody in my corner. Hell, for all I knew, you hated me as much as they did, for something I can’t even change. And wouldn’t, even if I could. I was wrong about that, at least.”

Zac wanted to scream at Taylor that he was wrong about a lot of things, but he couldn’t even manage a faint squeak. 

“Anyway, if you want me to leave, I’ll understand,” Taylor replied. “I have to leave for work soon, so I couldn’t be packed and out of here until after my shift, but—“

“No,” Zac cut him off. “No. I mean, you can stay. I can’t—you can’t sleep in your car. You can stay.”

Taylor looked surprised, but he nodded and the faintest of smiles crossed his lips. “Thank you. Seriously, Zac. I know I don’t deserve that. So thanks. I’ll do everything I can to earn my keep. When will you be back from class? I’ll make dinner.”

“You don’t have to—” Zac began, but sighed. He might not have seen Taylor in years, but he recognized the look of determination on his brother’s face. “I’ll probably stop by the library after class, so I doubt I’ll be back here before six or seven.”

“That’s perfect,” Taylor replied. 

“Yeah,” Zac mumbled, standing up and pouring his unfinished, now lukewarm, coffee into the sink. He spun back around to look at Taylor again. “I’ll see you later, I guess.”

He didn’t give Taylor a chance to respond to that before scurrying out of the room. By the time he had showered, dressed and walked back out into the living room, Taylor was gone, presumably to his job, wherever that was. He was in over his head. Zac knew that. But now that he had agreed to let Taylor stay, he couldn’t see a way out.

****

Zac only had one class that day, and he was thankful for that, because he couldn’t even manage to focus for the length of one lecture. Once it was over and he staggered out of the classroom, he had absolutely no idea what the professor had even talked about the whole time.

All he could think about was Taylor.

He shuffled into the library without giving much thought to where he was going. Mostly, he just wanted to stay on campus and prolong the inevitable—that is, seeing Taylor again. But going into the library meant potentially seeing Melissa, and after their strange date, he had no clue what to think of her at all. 

He was dismayed to find his usual study room taken. Not only that, but the entire row of them appeared to be occupied. Zac wandered away, dazed, and tried to at least locate a corral he could plant his laptop in and get a little work done now that he had a vague idea of where to go with his thesis. Most of those appeared to be taken, as well, and he was left wandering aimlessly, determined not to go back to his apartment for as long as he could avoid it.

“Zac?” A female voice called out, and he turned to see Melissa wheeling a cart of books out of the stacks. “It’s good to see you again… so soon.”

He nodded, surprised at her loud tone in what was supposed to be the quiet study area. But then, nearly everything about her true personality had surprised him. Finally, he found his voice and replied, “Yeah, hey. I was just gonna try to get some work done, but it looks like the rest of campus had the same idea.”

Melissa giggled softly. “Well, why don’t you help me shelve some books while you wait for an open room?”

“Yeah,” Zac squeaked out. “Okay.”

The two of them worked silently, side by side, shelving books about Russian history for a while before Melissa finally cleared her throat and spoke again. “So, is everything okay? I hope our date wasn’t that horrible, but you seem a little down today. Sorry if I’m being nosy.”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Zac replied.

Melissa leaned against the shelf and grinned. “Try me.”

“My brother,” Zac began, already feeling breathless. He knew, of course, that he couldn’t tell Melissa the entire story. He couldn’t tell anybody that. “He, umm… he found me. I guess we had crossed paths and I didn’t realize it, so when he needed a place to crash… he found me.”

“Well, that’s… that’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Melissa asked. “It was pretty clear how much you missed him. So what’s wrong now?”

Zac shrugged. “It’s just… not really how I expected it to happen. Not that I really had any expectations, because I couldn’t imagine it ever really happening at all. But it was just… different.”

“So? I’m sure you’ve changed, too. So what does it matter that your brother—Taylor, right—has changed, too? So it wasn’t the big, tearful reunion you had in mind. Of course it’s going to be awkward and weird after so many years apart. But it’s time to stop dwelling on that and just move forward, together.”

“What if I don’t know how to do that?” Zac asked softly, his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. “What if we’ve changed too much?”

Melissa stared Zac down, and Zac got the distinct feeling that she thought he was an idiot. _If she only knew_. “So it might take a little longer to learn each other again. He’s still your brother, and you’re still his. You have memories together. Those didn’t change or go away, did they? You can focus on _those_ , just not, you know, the reason why they stopped. As much as you missed him… as much as you obviously loved him when you told me about him… you’ll figure this out.”

“I think you have too much faith in me,” Zac replied, but he could feel himself smirking in spite of the black cloud that had lingered over him all day.

Melissa gave him a gentle nudge. “Or maybe you don’t have enough faith in yourself.”

“Yeah,” he replied. “Maybe. I hope it’s as simple as you said, but… I don’t know.”

“Whether it’s simple or not doesn’t really change that you’ve gotta get through it, does it?” Melissa asked.

“You have no idea how right you are,” Zac mumbled, picking up a large volume on World War II. 

Melissa nudged him again, perhaps a bit too harshly, nearly sending him flying into the bookshelf. “That’s the spirit. Now let’s get these books shelved so I can go home to my cats and you can get back to your family reunion.”

In spite of himself, Zac laughed. And he laughed even more as they worked together to empty Melissa’s book cart. She was an odd character, of that he was certain. Now that he’d opened himself up to her, she had opened to him, too. And while she was just as awkward as he’d thought, she wasn’t shy at all and she wasn’t slow to embrace him as a friend. He had a feeling he was going to need a willing, open-minded friend to get him through what she had dubbed his “family reunion.”


	9. Rhetorical Questions

Even if he had wanted to, there was no way that Zac could pretend that his life hadn’t been turned upside down. That fact became abundantly clear as soon as he walked back into his apartment. First, the television was on; he’d gotten used to living in silence over the last few months and preferred it that way. Second, the entire apartment smelled like home cooking.

It didn’t take long to track that second fact down to the kitchen, where Taylor was bent over, pulling something out of the oven. Zac coughed loudly to get his attention, and Taylor jumped a little as he set the pan down.

“Oh,” Taylor said, a somewhat uneasy smile on his lips. “You’re just in time. I didn’t have time do the homemade steak fries like I wanted to, but crinkle fries are always good, right? And I made the burgers the way Mom used to, with the cheese right in the patties. I know that was your favorite, and I assume it still is, unless you’ve gone vegetarian or something crazy.”

“I haven’t gone vegetarian,” Zac replied, chuckling slightly in spite of himself. He tried to cover it with a cough as he stepped toward the refrigerator and retrieved a beer. “You didn’t have to do all of this, you know.”

“It’s not about what I had to do or didn’t have to do. It’s what I wanted to do.” Taylor gave him a pointed look, but quickly shrugged it off. “I cook; it’s what I do. Especially when I’m stressed out. Devin hated it. We would fight and I’d spend hours baking cookies or brownies or something. He probably thought I was trying to fatten him up or something.”

“You still miss him, huh?” Zac asked before thinking. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have. I mean. You don’t have to answer that. That was really nosy of me.”

Taylor shook his head as he scrapped patties out of a pan and onto a waiting plate. “No, it’s fine. I do. I mean, we hadn’t been together forever or anything. But he was one of the first people I met when I moved out here last spring. I guess we moved too fast, deciding to live together and everything. We didn’t get to know each other well enough first, and living together meant there was nowhere to run when we fought. It just wasn’t going to work like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Zac said softly, accepting the plate Taylor held out to him. He kept his eyes down as he added all the fixings to his burger, along with a healthy side of fries and ketchup.

Taylor shrugged. “Like I said, it wasn’t going to work out. I didn’t think we were going to get married or anything—I mean, if we could. You know what I mean. But I’m surprised—but glad—that you care.”

Zac looked up from the seat he’d taken. “Why wouldn’t I care?” 

Taylor just shrugged again and sat down without giving Zac a real answer.

“I didn’t hate you,” Zac replied. “I wasn’t like them. You wouldn’t have known that, I guess, because you were just gone and I didn’t have a chance to really tell you. But it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. I’m not—I mean, I’m straight, but that doesn’t mean I have anything against you for just being you.”

“Well, you’ll forgive me if I have trouble believing that you’re one hundred percent straight,” Taylor said, his eyelashes fluttering as he seemed to be attempting to look Zac anywhere but right in the eyes, “but thank you. I didn’t know, Zac. I really didn’t. I thought you all hated me, all of you. And that’s why I never tried very hard to find you. I’m so sorry for that now—for more than one reason, really.”

Zac scowled at his burger. “I don’t want to talk about that. What—what happened at the club, I mean. Can we just eat our food and forget about that?”

“Sure,” Taylor said, his voice an octave or two higher than usual. “We can do that. We can do whatever you want.”

“Thank you.”

Zac knew he was being short with Taylor, and that wasn’t fair, especially when Taylor had gone to so much trouble to cook him a meal. And not just any meal, but a burger that was identical to the ones their mother had cooked for them. Taylor had put not just time, but thought, into this dinner, and all Zac could do was shut him down every time he tried to talk. It wasn’t right, no matter _what_ had happened.

But what Taylor had done, trying to cover it up and keep Zac from knowing the truth… that wasn’t right, either. Zac wasn’t ready to forgive all of that yet, although he wished desperately for the strength to forget it.

At Zac’s request, the two ate their dinner in an awkward silence, sharing little more than a few brief words about their days. Zac still didn’t even know where Taylor worked, how he had ended up in Austin to begin with or where he had been for the past eight years before that. There were so many questions just on the tip of his tongue, but none that he was ready to ask. 

Once they had eaten their fill, Taylor covered the leftovers with aluminum foil and stored them in the refrigerator. Zac decided to make himself useful and began cleaning up Taylor’s mess, scraping off plates and dumping them into a sink full of soapy water. It was the least he could do, and even as he thought that, he wondered why he felt like he owed Taylor anything at all. After everything, how could he feel like the guilty one? It wasn’t right. And yet it _was_ how he felt, illogical as it may have been.

Taylor soon joined him at the sink, their bodies uncomfortably close. Zac could feel Taylor’s body heat next to him, and it made his own body temperature rise. He hated it. Taylor was his brother; he didn’t want to feel that way. He _didn’t_ feel that way. And yet every time he remembered the person he had mistakenly thought Taylor was, this illusive Jordan character, butterflies fluttered up in his stomach. Standing so close, feeling Taylor near him and smelling his soft scent that could have been soap, shampoo, even perfume for all Zac knew… it was more than he could handle.

“We’re still not okay, are we?” Taylor asked, taking a clean glass from Zac’s hand.

“No,” Zac replied tersely, making a pointed effort not to let their hands brush. “How could we be okay? After… everything?”

Taylor sighed. “I can apologize a million times for not realizing sooner that it was you, and I will if it’s what you want me to do, but nothing will erase it. I know it’s crazy to expect everything to be perfect right now. I’m not asking for perfect. I’m asking for you not to hate me because of a mistake. An accident. A complete, freak accident.”

Zac considered Taylor’s words as he scrubbed the last pan. He didn’t disagree with them, really. It was an accident; he knew that. _That_ wasn’t what upset him, he realized. It may have thrown everything he thought he knew about his sexuality into disarray, but that wasn’t Taylor’s fault, and so that wasn’t _really_ what bothered him. 

No. What bothered him went deeper than that, and he didn’t think he could keep it bottled up much longer.

“I know it was an accident,” Zac practically growled. He thrust the pan into Taylor’s hands and backed away, barely even bothering to dry off his own hands. “It’s not that. It’s really not. But you… you just assumed I took their side. You ignored me for years, because you didn’t have enough faith in me to realize I wasn’t that full of hate. And then when you find me again, I think the circumstances ought to have been a hint that you were wrong. But what do you do? You get so scared of how I’m going to react to that accident that you decide it’s better to just ignore me again. For how long, Taylor? How long were you going to hide from me just so I wouldn’t know the truth? Because hiding that from me was somehow better for me than having my brother in my life again?”

Taylor’s mouth opened, as if he were going to respond, then quickly slammed shut again. His bottom lip quivered, but he was completely silent.

“You don’t need to answer,” Zac continued. “I guess they’re all rhetorical questions. It doesn’t matter anyway. Another day without you is bad enough. You don’t know how hard I looked, but it isn’t like I had any clue where to start. But I tried to find you. You didn’t do that for me. I see that now. I see where your priorities are. You can say you were protecting me, and I’m not going to lie and say that it’s okay to live with… the knowledge of what we did. It’s not. But it’s better to know that and know you’re at least _alive_ than to always wonder if you weren’t.”

His lip still quivering, Taylor mumbled, “I’m sorry. Zac, I am so sorry.”

“For that, you really could apologize a million times, and it wouldn’t be enough,” Zac replied. 

He didn’t give Taylor another chance to respond. Maybe someday Taylor could come up with an apology or explanation that would be enough, but Zac doubted it. He supposed that it was a wound that only time could fix, the way that only time had created it in the first place.

As he retreated to his bedroom, he could still hear Taylor puttering around the kitchen. Based on what Taylor had told him earlier, Zac assumed the clanging and banging he heard were the sounds of something being baked. That, too, wouldn’t heal any wounds. 

Had he created even more wounds with his outburst? Zac hoped not. It was all just a mess that neither of them could have foreseen, a mess that not even their parents could have imagined when they had made their close-minded decision to cut Taylor out of their lives. Zac doubted anyone else had ever been in such a situation. It was the sort of thing that you couldn’t even begin to imagine, and yet it was now his life. 

With those thoughts in mind and the scent of chocolate in the air, Zac drifted off into an uneasy sleep, trying not to even attempt to guess what the next day might bring.


	10. Something Harder

Zac and Taylor’s paths hardly crossed for the next week. Zac knew that it was certainly intentional on his part, and he had a feeling it was on Taylor’s part, too. He went to class early and stayed late in the library afterward just to stay away from his apartment. At least his thesis proposal was well underway, even if the rest of his life was falling further and further apart.

As for Taylor, Zac occasionally caught fleeting glimpses of him, coming or going from shifts at work that seemed to last all day when Zac was sure his job was only part time. Some nights he wasn’t sure if Taylor had actually slept in the apartment at all. The only proof he had been there at all were the few dirty towels he left in the bathroom and the dinners left in the oven to keep them warm for whenever Zac finally arrived home again. 

The fact that Taylor was still all but waiting on him hand and foot—Zac was positive Taylor had even done some of his laundry for him—only made him feel worse. Yet Taylor was obviously trying to avoid him, too, and so Zac didn’t feel so bad about hanging around campus longer than usual. It gave him time to talk to Melissa and get to know her better, even if he guarded his secrets carefully from her. 

It wasn’t until Saturday night that Zac and Taylor’s schedules aligned again. Although he and Melissa had talked about hanging out that night, they hadn’t made definite plans, and so after staying in the library until her shift ended and then eating dinner with her on campus, he finally trudged back to the apartment.

He had listened, just past the door, for any sign that Taylor was home, but the apartment wasn’t deceptively quiet. That was why Zac had nearly jumped out of his skin when Taylor’s slim figure emerged from the bathroom, clearly dressed for a night out.

 _At least he isn’t wearing a dress this time,_ Zac thought.

Although, he had to admit, what Taylor _was_ wearing really wasn’t much better. He appeared to have poured himself into his jeans, and his shirt, covered in a pale floral pattern, was unbuttoned halfway down his chest to reveal an obscene amount of cleavage. Even from a few feet away, Zac could see that Taylor had applied a relatively light coat of makeup, further heightening the gender-bending effect of his attire. His glossy lips quivered as Zac appraised him.

“I didn’t—god, I didn’t think you would be home before I left,” Taylor breathed out.

Zac was rooted to the spot, vaguely aware that his key was still in the door that he hadn’t even shut behind him. “Are you…. You’re going clubbing?”

“Yeah,” Taylor replied, nodding. “Is that okay? I mean, not that I need your approval. But you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I have,” Zac said plainly. 

He wouldn’t have thought to describe it that way, but that was exactly how it felt. Seeing Taylor again had been something of that sort. But seeing Taylor looking a bit more like the androgynous being he’d started to fall for was like being in front of his very first crush all over again. Except now he could see him for who he really was—or could he? He didn’t know which Taylor was the real Taylor and which was just a performance. Maybe they both were. Maybe Zac didn’t really want to know at all.

“Well, my ride is going to be here soon,” Taylor said, his voice turning strangely cold in a way that made him seem even more foreign to Zac. 

Without waiting for a response from Zac, he brushed past him and out the still open door. Zac remained rooted to the spot for a moment, not even trusting himself to spin around and watch Taylor leave. He could just barely hear Taylor’s laughing voice, a contrast to how he had sounded just a moment before, followed by the slamming of a car door.

Once Taylor was, presumably, gone, Zac pulled his phone from his pocket and sent a quick text to Melissa to let her know he was coming over. If he stayed in his apartment, he would go crazy waiting for Taylor to come home, and even crazier if he didn’t. He couldn’t even pretend it was anything other than jealousy, and so he decided to just put it out of his mind completely by spending the night with his new best friend.

Even though his text had revealed little about his reason for needing to see her, Melissa met Zac at the door to her apartment with a bottle of beer in each hand. He took one with an appreciative smile and followed her inside.

“So,” she said, once they were settled into the couch, “are you going to tell me why you had a change of heart?”

Zac sighed and stared down into his beer. “We talked about hanging out, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, but I was expecting something a little more cheerful than this. I could feel the waves of depression radiating off your text. So what happened between dinner and… this?”

“Nothing,” Zac replied, then sighed again. “I mean, not _nothing_. But it’s just… all this stuff with Taylor. And I know I’m not explaining it, but you just have to trust me that I can’t right now. I can’t put it all into words. Not yet. Maybe not at all.”

She nodded, but Zac could see that she didn’t really understand. “Okay. Okay, that’s fine. Whatever it is, does it require more beer or something harder?”

“Something harder,” Zac replied without giving it more than a passing thought.

Melissa instructed Zac to put in a movie while she got their drinks, then walked out of the room. Zac surveyed her movie collection and finally settled on The Princess Bride. A large, orange cat climbed into his lap as the opening credits rolled and he slowly sipped his beer. It wasn’t perfect, but already he felt his mood evening out. He was glad he’d given Melissa a chance; her strange, blunt form of friendship was more of a comfort to him than he could explain to her.

“How’s this?” Melissa asked, holding two shot glasses and a bottle of vodka and offering Zac a smile. “Nothing soothes life’s bullshit away like vodka. At least, that’s what I always say. Well, not really. That’s a horrible catchphrase.”

Zac chuckled. “Vodka’s good. Great, actually.”

She sat down next to him, gave the cat a quick pet on the head, then poured a shot for each of them. They clinked their glasses together before downing the shots; Zac was impressed but not all that surprised that Melissa didn’t even flinch. 

“So I see you and Rory have bonded,” Melissa remarked as she refilled their glasses. 

“Rory?” Zac asked. “Oh, the cat. Yeah, I guess we have.”

“He’s a big dumb sweetheart,” Melissa replied, handing Zac his shot.

He chuckled softly as he accepted the glass again. “I guess he and I have that in common, then. At least the dumb part.”

Melissa eyed Zac as he sat down his empty glass. “You really aren’t going to tell me what’s going on, are you?”

He shook his head. “It’s one of those things. You know, those things that you can’t really even explain because they’re just so complicated and unbelievable. Even saying that is really too much. It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s really not. I know we haven’t been friends for long, but I hope you believe that.”

“I do,” she replied. “I just can’t help feeling that you’re not giving me enough credit. It may be hard to explain, but I promise that if you can figure that out, I’ll figure out how to understand it.”

“Maybe someday,” Zac said, but the words were only meant to appease her; there was little truth in them. “For now, let’s just enjoying the vodka and the movie.”

Melissa smiled and took her second shot. “No complaints here.”

Zac helped himself to another shot as well, then another. He felt a little bad for drinking all of Melissa’s alcohol, but she didn’t say a word. Even if he was being incredibly cryptic about what had him so upset, she was being patient with him and hadn’t forced him to talk. Zac liked that. He wanted to tell her that, but that would mean getting too close to discussing the whole situation again.

Instead, he just settled in next to her to enjoy the movie. That wasn’t difficult, since it was one of his favorite movies, but the alcohol—which he had yet to quit consuming--had brightened up his mood more than he expected. That cat gently purring in his lap and Melissa’s soft, warm body next to him just put a smile on his face. Somewhat in spite of himself, Zac rested his arm on Melissa’s shoulder. He didn’t want to give her the wrong idea, but right then he wasn’t even sure what the _right_ idea was.

“Zac…” Melissa breathed out, and Zac thought there was a warning in her voice, but he chose to ignore it.

“Hmm?” He pulled her closer to his side, giving the cat a gentle nudge until it took the hint and climbed down from his lap. 

Melissa eyed Zac, but his vision was just blurry enough for him to easily ignore whatever she was trying to convey. Had he had that much more to drink than her? He didn’t think so. He just felt a little buzzed, really. And lonely. Being with Melissa took the edge off that feeling, but it would take more to alleviate it entirely. To that end, Zac leaned over and pressed his lips against Melissa’s, just barely hard enough to drown out her squeak of surprise.

He could feel her resistance, but it faded quickly as she recovered her senses and took control of the situation. She placed her hands firmly on Zac’s shoulders and nudged him over so that he was laying down on the couch and her body was spread out on top of his. Their limbs tangled together in a way that made Zac tingle all over, and he didn’t even mind letting her take the lead and guide their kiss.

They were crossing a serious line, but Zac didn’t care, and judging by how far down his throat Melissa’s tongue was, she didn’t seem to care, either. Zac grasped the back of her shirt tightly in his fists, not drunk enough to lose all his inhibitions and let his hands wander underneath. He had no clue how far Melissa wanted to let this go, although he was certain that she would tell him when he had gone too far. 

Yet she showed no signs of stopping, either, one of her hands creeping down his side so she could hook a finger in his belt loop. Was she going to go further? Would she if he asked? Zac didn’t know, and he didn’t want to tear his lips away from hers long enough to ask. Just as her hand finally did start to creep further south, a strange vibration went through his body… followed by the sound of the Aerosmith song he used as his ringtone.

“Shit,” Zac cursed as Melissa nearly jumped off the couch entirely. He fumbled to pull the phone from his pocket, a task made more difficult than usual thanks to how tight his pants had suddenly become. The name on the screen was the last one he wanted to see.

Taylor.

They had exchanged numbers before Zac left for class a few days prior, even though Zac could see no reason why they would need to call each other. Those were the most words they had spoken to each other in days. Now, as his phone continued to ring, he could do little more than wish to go back in time and not give Taylor his number.

Knowing he didn’t really have another choice, Zac swallowed around the lump in his throat, and answered the call.

“Hello?”


	11. Alcohol On The Wound

It took Zac several tries and what felt like more than several minutes to calm Taylor down enough to get anything coherent out of him. When he finally did, it came down to one question.

“Can you come pick me up?”

Zac’s immediate reaction was to babble and rattle off reasons why he couldn’t, the most pressing being that he wasn’t entirely sober himself. At his stutters, Melissa yanked the phone from his hand and pressed it to her own ear.

“Is this Taylor? The long lost brother?” She asked. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Corner of… okay, I know where that is. Just stay right there; don’t move a millimeter.”

Melissa handed the phone back to Zac, and he began to speak into it again, only to realize that she had already ended the call.

“What did… what did you do that for?” He asked.

“Because I wanted to be able to say ‘you owe me,’” she replied, then gave Zac a sharp nudge with a very pointy elbow. “Now come on, let’s go pick up your brother. You can come back for your car when you’re both dried out.”

Zac could see that he clearly had no other option but to do what Melissa said. He had a feeling that was going to be a continuing trend in their friendship. He wasn’t sure what to think of that, except he was sure he was too drunk to dwell on any sort of thoughts like that right then.

Instead, he gave in and let Melissa take the lead as she practically drug him to her car and pushed him into the passenger seat. When they pulled out of her apartment complex, he opened his mouth to begin giving her directions to the Electric Ballroom, but quickly realized she was driving in exactly the direction of it. Perhaps Taylor had told her where to find him. That was a possibility, but she seemed highly confident in her ability to get them to the right club, more so than he would have been after getting directions from some drunk. The more likely explanation, Zac decided, was that he still had a hell of a lot to learn about his new friend.

After what seemed like far too short of a drive, Melissa’s car was idling right outside the doors of the building. A few feet away was the familiar figure that still made Zac’s stomach turn nervous somersaults. Even in relatively masculine dress and slumped dejectedly against the wall, Taylor was breathtaking. Zac didn’t think he would ever get used to that. 

Without even seeming to need to ask if that was him, Melissa eased her car down until they were right in front of Taylor. She rolled Zac’s window down for him, and only then did Taylor glance up.

“Come on,” Melissa called out, leaning around Zac to be seen and heard. “Let’s get you home, pretty boy.”

The nickname was clearly meant as a compliment, in the awkward way that only Melissa could get away with, but Taylor didn’t seem to notice one way or the other. As he climbed into the backseat, Zac could see streaks in his makeup as though he had been crying. Glittery black rings lined Taylor’s eyes, and Zac shivered when their eyes met and he saw the tears still pooling in his brother’s.

The car was eerily silent as they drove back to Zac’s apartment. Zac was sure that someone should say something to shatter the oppressiveness of it, but he had no clue what. Melissa was smarter than him, he thought. If anyone would possibly know what to say, it would be her, not him. It might be awkward and make things even worse for a moment, but at least she ought to be able to think of _something_.

Yet her mouth remained set in a tight line, not even humming along with the radio, until they pulled into Zac’s parking lot. Melissa hadn’t been there yet, but he’d mentioned how close he lived to campus. He wasn’t sure this was exactly how he’d imagined bringing her to his place for the first time, if he’d imagined it at all.

“Alright,” Melissa said, making Zac jump at the sudden intrusion into his thoughts about her. “You boys try to stay out of trouble for the rest of the night, okay? I can bail you out metaphorically speaking, but I’m just a broke college student.”

Zac gave a strangled little laugh at that, and Taylor made a sound that was even farther from a laugh and closer to what might proceed being sick. He stumbled out of the car without a word or even another sound, and Zac found himself unable to do anything but watch him go.

“You should probably make sure he doesn’t die on those stairs,” Melissa suggested.

“Yeah,” Zac replied, but still made no attempt to move.

“He’ll be okay,” Melissa said.

Zac couldn’t find it in himself to say that was the least of his concerns, because he knew that would only lead to him explaining the rest of them. That was something he still wanted to put off for as long as possible, preferably forever.

Melissa eyed Zac, like she was trying to determine the cause of his reluctance to leave the safety of her car. “You don’t need me to come in and stay with you guys, do you? You can handle it on your own, can’t you?”

“I guess I can,” Zac replied with the sudden realization that he wasn’t on his own, not even a little bit, anymore.

He had gotten used to being effectively an only child for years. The adjustment to being a brother again, even without everything else that their complicated relationship entailed, was one that Zac hadn’t even considered. It was just yet another ordeal for him to survive, another change to deal with, he supposed.

Realizing that Melissa was still staring at him and awaiting some sort of response, Zac managed to say, “Thanks for driving us, I guess. You didn’t have to do it.”

“I know I didn’t _have_ to,” Melissa replied. “That’s so not the point at all. We’re friends and friends do shit for each other. Maybe not entirely selflessly or without hope of the favor being returned. But the bigger point is that you needed me. Of course I wasn’t going to just leave you hanging.”

Zac gave her what might have actually passed for a genuine smile; it felt like one, but he didn’t trust his face not to betray him. “You’re alright, Melly.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about that nickname,” she said. “But thank you. Now go check on your brother, and call me tomorrow so I know you’re not both dead or something.”

“No one else calls you Melly?” Zac asked, his smile somehow growing.

She shook her head. “Just you.”

“Then I definitely am a fan of the nickname,” Zac replied, finally finding the strength to open the passenger door. “It’s staying. See ya later, Melly.”

Zac could hear her groan as he stepped out of the car and slammed the door. She wasn’t really upset, he thought. At least he hoped that she wasn’t. It had to have been a strange night for her, especially considering the position Taylor’s call had found them in.

What _had_ he almost done with her?

Zac couldn’t honestly say how far he would have let things go if Taylor hadn’t called. What that meant about his feelings for Melissa, he wasn’t entirely sure, and he really didn’t want to consider the implications of it all happening when he was so upset and confused about Taylor.

No, that definitely was not worth thinking about, Zac decided.

Zac shook his head, as if to clear it of those thoughts, and trudged up the steps to his apartment. Although Melissa had lifted his mood some, he still dreaded doing his brotherly duties for a brother he didn’t know at all. What he would find when he walked into the apartment and what he could expect from Taylor were total mysteries to him.

The apartment was eerily quiet when Zac finally made his way inside. He cringed at how loud the door sounded when it clicked shut. Silence descended again but only for a moment before he heard Taylor’s weak voice from the direction of his own bedroom.

“Zac,” he rasped. “Come lay down with me, please.”

His voice had definitely come from Zac’s bedroom, and Zac wanted to be upset about that. On the other hand, he thought, there was no way that the two of them could share the air mattress Taylor still hadn’t replaced with a real bed.

Not that they should be sharing a bed at all, Zac reminded himself. But right then, that seemed to be the least of his concerns.

As slowly as possible, trying to delay the inevitable, Zac padded down the hallway, still unsure what he would find in his bedroom. He kicked his shoes off before entering and carefully nudged the door open, as though whatever lay behind it might jump out at him.

Nothing did, however.

Although he was sprawled out to cover nearly the entire bed, Taylor looked like nothing so much as a sad, sick child. He had at least managed to take off his shoes, but was otherwise still fully dressed, his shirt inching up to reveal a small patch of bare skin on his back.

Zac groaned. This was not, in any way, going to be a pleasant experience. 

He paused for a moment before deciding to remove his jeans but leave his shirt in place. Even that felt like too much, but leaving all of his clothing on as a barrier between the two of them felt too obvious. In this situation, there seemed to be no way for him to win.

“Can you, umm,” Zac began, then cleared his throat, hoping Taylor would understand without him having to expressly say he didn’t want to cuddle or even lay as close as Taylor’s position would force them to.

Taylor seemed to get the hint, surprisingly, rolling over onto his side and pulling the covers loose to allow Zac entry. Zac was certain he would have preferred that extra layer of protection between them, but didn’t know how to ask for it back without once again drawing attention to how much he didn’t want to be that close to Taylor.

Instead, he crawled into the bed as gingerly as possible, keeping a safe distance between himself and Taylor’s back. With Taylor facing away from him, it wasn’t so bad. He didn’t feel so watched or judged.

To his surprise, Taylor didn’t smell strongly of alcohol--no moreso than anyone who had spent the night in a bar would, even if they hadn’t themselves consumed copious amounts. That surprised Zac, and made him wonder what had gone so wrong, other than over-consumption, that would cause Taylor to come home so early. He didn’t want to ask, but he knew it was the brotherly thing to do.

Reluctantly, he asked, “Is everything alright? I mean, are you… okay?”

Taylor’s back rose and fell as he sighed. “I am so not okay for so many reasons, but in this moment, I just need to sleep this off.”

“Okay,” Zac replied. Trying to sound sincere, he added, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I think you and I have said enough about most of it. The rest is just old news, really.”

Zac had no clue what the latter meant, no desire to talk about the former and no clue how to respond.

Taylor rolled over to face him, and Zac forced himself to maintain eye contact. The difficult of it proved how drunk he himself still was.

“If you really want to know,” Taylor said, “I’m being a little bitch because Devin decided to come back to the club where he knew I would be.”

A wave of emotion that Zac refused to acknowledge surged through his body at the way Taylor said the other man’s name. It was, Zac was sure, the way he sounded when he spoke Carly’s name, the way you could only speak the name of someone you once loved and now hated yourself for doing so.

“So that’s all,” Taylor said, as if trying to reassure Zac rather than himself. “I’ll be fine, but I didn’t need to pour more alcohol on the wound.”

Zac nodded, unsure what else to do. Their bodies were close enough now for Zac to smell Taylor’s distinctive unisex cologne and the rum on his breath. It sent an awkward tingle down his spine, and he was sure Taylor could see him squirming.

“Are you okay?” Taylor asked, placing a hand on Zac’s arm. Just that simple touch raised goosebumps on his flesh and made it hard to focus on Taylor’s words. “I didn’t interrupt your date, did I?”

“No,” Zac replied quickly. Perhaps a bit too quickly, he thought, but he knew it truly wasn’t a date. In spite of what they had done, or nearly done, there wasn’t quite that sort of attraction there, at least not on Zac’s part. What he felt for Melissa was nothing compared to the need and want that coursed through his body at a simple touch from his own brother.

Mentally, he knew it was wrong. Physically, he was unable to stop. He had no control over the way his body reacted, and he feared he was losing control of his actions as well.

His hand had crept up Taylor’s chest and neck, coming to rest along his perfect jawline. Zac wanted nothing more than to kiss the skin there, and he was powerless to resist that urge.

His lips had barely grazed Taylor’s jaw before his brother’s grip on his arm tightened.

“Zac,” Taylor said almost sternly, but his voice broken on the final letter. “You don’t… you can’t want to do this.”

“I can’t,” Zac agreed, his lips still pressed against the side of Taylor’s face.

“I can’t either,” Taylor replied, then turned his head so that their lips met.

He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. Zac knew all of that, yet he didn’t know of any other way to ease Taylor’s heartache but to kiss it away, and so that was exactly what he intended to do.


	12. Melly

Zac woke in the morning feeling comfortably warm and cozy. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that he ought to have at least a tiny hangover, because he definitely remembered consuming quite a bit of alcohol with Melissa. He also remembered kissing her, and that it felt kind of nice, even if it shouldn’t have. He wasn’t attracted to her like that; it should have been like kissing his brother or something.

No. That was a bad thought. Kissing his brother was, unfortunately, nothing like kissing Melissa. It was, Zac was ashamed to admit even to himself, so much better.

He suddenly realized he wasn’t alone in bed, but he didn’t remember staying at Melissa’s. Nor did he remember bringing her home with him—at least, he didn’t remember her coming inside the apartment. Besides, he highly doubted Melly—because he _did_ remember nicknaming her that—would be the big spoon.

That could only mean one thing.

Zac slowly opened his eyes and looked down at the arms wrapped around him. There were thin, but definitely masculine, as were the large hands attached to them that were gripping Zac’s shirt like it was an anchor. The rescue mission he and Melissa had made suddenly came back to him, along with memories of tears glistening on Taylor’s cheeks and Taylor’s insistence that they sleep together, as though that might somehow fix whatever was wrong.

Zac was fairly certain it had only created more problems.

He pried himself out of Taylor’s grip as carefully as possible, silently praying that he wouldn’t wake his brother. Taylor heaved a loud sigh as Zac placed his arms onto the mattress, and Zac froze on the spot, his heart thumping. After a few seconds, when Taylor hadn’t spoken, Zac decided he was safe. He didn’t dare look back at his brother to be certain, fearing that as soon as his eyes fell on him, Taylor would wake.

Finally, after what felt like hours of carefully prying himself loose and wiggling out of the bed, Zac was free.

The second that his feet hit the floor, Taylor sighed again. “Zac? Where are you going?”

Zac should have known it was too good to be true. Of course he couldn’t get away so easily. 

“Just to the bathroom,” he replied. “I need to take a shower.”

If he could have scrubbed Taylor off his body completely, he would have. But a scalding hot shower would have to do, Zac decided. He scurried out of the room before Taylor could say anything else to delay him or convince him to stay.

Zac took his time in the shower, the water turned up as hot as he could stand, as though he really could scald himself clean, scour off a layer of skin and with it the memory of how it felt to kiss and touch his brother. They were memories he knew he shouldn’t want, yet after so many years of nothing at all, he found that he wanted it _all_. He wanted to know his brother inside and out. He wanted to make up for those missing years that he somehow felt responsible for. He wanted to show Taylor that he loved him and supported him and always had, even when he had been too scared to admit it for fear of what their parents would do.

He wanted so many things that he shouldn’t want that even the things that should have been normal were twisted into something wrong and perverted.

The water was only lukewarm when Zac finally turned it off and stepped out in the steamy bathroom. He took his time drying off and dressing, not sure what he would find in the apartment when he emerged. Taylor wouldn’t be happy with him; of that he wasn’t fairly certain. On the other hand, he wasn’t sure how drunk Taylor had been. Maybe he wouldn’t even remember. That was too good of an outcome to really hope for, Zac decided.

A pair of jeans and a t-shirt that didn’t smell too bad lay abandoned on the floor; Zac slid into them along with the clean boxers he’d at least had the foresight to bring into the bathroom with him. Running a hand through his still damp hair, which was just long enough for a ponytail now after cutting it to please Carly during their first year together, he stepped out into the apartment and braced himself.

The smell of bacon frying—when had he bought bacon?—assaulted his senses and made his stomach turn. He was hungry, since he hadn’t eaten dinner the night before, but the alcohol he had substituted for dinner made it difficult for him to consider actually eating anything to sate that hunger. Something as greasy as bacon definitely didn’t sound like a good idea, and it didn’t help that he knew the chef was none other than Taylor.

Sure enough, he found Taylor standing in the kitchen, a plate heaped with bacon on the counter next to him, and a spatula in hand, scrambling eggs with cheese just the way Zac liked. He hated that he knew nothing about Taylor now, and yet Taylor seemed to remember everything about him. Zac supposed he hadn’t changed at all, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that, when Taylor seemed like such a stranger to him.

“There’s coffee and toast, too,” Taylor said simply, as though the two of them sharing breakfast was a normal, everyday occurrence. 

It wasn’t, though not for lack of trying on Taylor’s part; Zac made a point of staying in bed so late that he usually had nothing more than cold leftovers to eat alone. Anything to avoid being so dangerously close to Taylor.

“Thanks,” Zac choked out, the word feeling like a stone in the back of his throat. He grabbed a piece of toast from where it still rested in the toaster and crammed half of it in his mouth all at once. It nearly gagged him, but at least it prevented him from speaking.

Taylor finished the eggs and scraped them out onto a plate before turning to face Zac. “I’m sorry about last night. I really don’t make a habit out of getting so drunk I can’t find my own way home, I swear.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Zac mumbled around his toast. “I just… I don’t wanna talk about it. I need to go get my car back from Melissa’s place.”

The latter was tacked on just as an excuse to get away before Taylor could wear him down and get him to talk. Obviously Taylor did remember something about the night before, although Zac still wasn’t sure how much. How much did Taylor realize that he had to apologize for? Zac didn’t dare even ask. He was perfectly content just to take the apology and run before Taylor could say any more about what they had done.

The apartment felt suffocating as he rushed around in search of his wallet, cell phone and keys. Melissa’s apartment was a little bit farther away than he really wanted to walk, but the other option was to ask Taylor to drive him there. At the moment, that wasn’t even a possibility in Zac’s mind. A nice long walk would do him good. Or just give him so much time to think that he would end up walking out into traffic just to end it all.

Of course, he didn’t actually do that. The random suicidal thoughts weren’t anything he took seriously, although they were increasing in frequency. Zac reasoned that he was just joking with himself when he made these little comments to himself; if he really wanted to do it, he would just do it without talking melodramatically about it first.

Either way, he made it to Melissa’s apartment in one piece and knocked on her door. As he did, it occurred to him that he probably should have called or texted first to be sure that she was actually at home. He didn’t think she usually worked so early, but it would be just his luck that she wasn’t there at all. He could have just gotten in his car and left, but he knew he owed her an apology just as much, if not more, than Taylor had owed him one for the night before.

Just as he raised his hand to knock on the door for a second time, it swung open and revealed Melissa standing before him. Her hair was a little messy and she was still in an old t-shirt and pajama pants, but she looked far more refreshed and awake than Zac thought anyone had a right to look after a night of drinking. Then again, she had been totally sober compared to him.

“Hey,” he managed to squeak out. “Umm, just came back to get my car.”

Melissa put her hand on her hip. “Is that all?”

“Yeah,” Zac replied. “Well, no. I, umm, you know. I guess I wanted to apologize for last night. You having to go pick up Taylor because I got drunk, and the whole getting drunk thing. And… well.”

“It’s no big deal,” Melissa said, but her smile didn’t reach all the way to her eyes. “Anyway, just don’t make a habit of it. You brother, though. Does he work at the Sephora at Barton Square?”

Zac blinked. “Oh. Umm. Yeah, I think so.”

“I thought he looked familiar. He’s cute. Too bad he swings the other way, huh?” Melissa’s smile grew just a tiny bit.

“Yeah,” Zac choked out, managing the tiniest of laughs. “Look, are we… are we okay? You and me.”

Melissa stepped back into her apartment and motioned for Zac to follow her. He stepped in and let the door shut behind him. Part of him knew Melissa was just trying to avoid having a private conversation in public, but the other part of him was screaming that she just didn’t want any witnesses when she murdered him.

“Well?” He asked, hoping just to get it over with as soon as possible.

“Look, I don’t know what you were thinking,” Melissa began. “I mean, you were drunk. I get that. Probably even more drunk than I even realized, and I’m sorry that I didn’t stop things sooner.”

Zac shook his head. “No, I—I shouldn’t have even started things. It was a long night and I was drunk but honestly there are no excuses for it. You know it’s not… it’s just not like that. And I just complicated things by making it like that.”

“You didn’t complicate things,” Melissa replied, but her smile had fallen again. “If either of us did, I did. I’m the one who wanted to be friends when I realized it wasn’t going to work out otherwise. And maybe that was a mistake. But for better or worse, I made that decision and I don’t want to back away from it, not when it seems like you really need a friend. Even if you don’t want to tell me why.”

“Maybe someday I’ll explain,” Zac said, and he almost sounded like he meant it. He was proud of himself for being convincing for once in his life—nevermind the fact that he knew it was a lie.

“Someday,” Melissa echoed. “Now go on, get your car, and go take care of your brother. I’m sure he has a hell of a hangover.”

“I think mine is worse,” Zac replied, cracking his first smile of the morning.

Melissa pulled him in for a hug. “You’re gonna be alright, Zac. With the hangover and whatever else is going on, I mean. And we’re alright, too. But if you do something like that again and we get interrupted by your phone, I may have to smash it. And kill your brother.”

Zac laughed in spite of himself. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“It’ll all be fine,” Melissa said, then finally released Zac from her hug.

After making plans to have lunch with her before class on Tuesday, Zac finally trudged off to locate his car. He had no desire to go straight back to his apartment and risk running into Taylor again, but he had nowhere else to go. He ended up driving around aimlessly with the radio turned up loud enough to drown out his thoughts.

He was a pessimist at heart, and though he wanted to believe Melissa that everything was going to be okay, he just couldn’t. Now that he was realizing just how deep and fucked up his feelings for Taylor were, Zac was beginning to think that nothing would ever be right again.


	13. Small Victories

Zac drove around for hours, crisscrossing the better part of Austin just to keep himself busy so that he wouldn’t have to return back to the apartment and risk seeing Taylor again. He saw parts of the city he wasn’t sure he had ever seen before, but he couldn’t even bring himself to leave the safety of his car. He ate a cheap hamburger alone in his car and realized just how pathetic he was being. He couldn’t avoid Taylor forever, not as long as the two of them were sharing an apartment. Eventually, he had to return home and it wouldn’t be long after that before the two of them would have to talk.

But maybe not just yet. Maybe Zac could avoid a serious conversation for at least one more day. He knew it was unlikely, but it was his only hope.

Finally, he drove himself home and was relieved to see that Taylor’s car wasn’t in what had become its usually spot. He supposed Taylor had to work, which meant it would hopefully be hours before he returned home. At least now Zac could put a name to where his brother worked, he supposed.

Those hours would drive him insane, Zac was sure. He did have classwork that needed desperately to be finished, but something else was calling his name, nagging at his mind and begging for his attention. After making his way into the apartment, Zac changed into an old, paint stained pair of jeans and t-shirt and dug around in his closet until he found his box of paints. A little more digging revealed a canvas with just a few smudges of paint on it but nothing resembling an actual painting.

It wasn’t the best, because most of his supplies were at his parents’ house in storage, but it would have to do. He found the unused top sheet for his bed and spread it out across the living room floor and decided that was the best he was going to do for a makeshift studio. Maybe Monday he could book some time in one of the studios on campus and do some real painting…

Zac shook his head. He didn’t have any studio classes; there was no need to paint other than the need coursing through his body right then. That need wasn’t practical at all, but he knew better than to ignore it. He had to give in. He had to paint.

A few minutes later, he had sketched out a profile on the canvas and mindlessly begun to fill it in. He didn’t even want to think about who he was painting, although it was obvious. He was never far from Zac’s thoughts, and he was the reason Zac had felt that strong emotional pull to express himself on the canvas again, for the first time in what felt like years… maybe it _was_ years, Zac realized.

He had just started to put more detail into the eyes, trying to get just the right stormy blue, when the lock turned and the front door creaked open. Zac barely recognized the sound at all and didn’t look up from his work, so intent on getting it right that he was oblivious to anything and everything around him.

“That looks… wow,” Taylor said breathlessly, suddenly appearing at Zac’s side.

Zac jumped in surprise at the sudden intrusion and his paint brush went flying. Taylor caught it, but not before it bounced off his crisp white dress shirt and splattered it with deep blue paint. 

“Shit!” Zac exclaimed. “I didn’t—shit! I’m sorry.”

Taylor’s brow furrowed as he looked down at his shirt, then sheepishly held out the brush to Zac. “No, it was my fault, I guess. I didn’t realize how entranced you were.”

“Yeah, well,” Zac replied, taking the brush and dunking it into a cup of water. He felt his face heating up, embarrassed that Taylor had caught him painting what was clearly a portrait of him—or, to be more accurate, he supposed, of Jordan.

“Umm,” Taylor cleared his throat and began to unbutton his shirt. “I should, umm, get this cleaned up before it sets. At least I have a half a dozen more shirts just like this one…”

To Zac’s horror, Taylor rushed into the kitchen, rather than the small laundry nook off the bathroom, shedding his button-up as he went. At least he wore a thin wifebeater underneath, but that hardly made a different to Zac. Taylor still might as well have been entirely naked as he stood at the sink, running cold water over his shirt.

Zac looked back and his painting and sighed. So much for that. With Taylor’s appearance, all of his inspiration had been dashed, not at all comparable to the real thing in front of him. If he didn’t fear Taylor’s reaction, he would have smashed the canvas and destroyed all evidence that he had even tried to capture what he saw and felt.

A moment later, the washing machine kicked into gear and Taylor reappeared in front of him, still wearing only his dress slacks and wifebeater. 

“I didn’t know you were still painting,” Taylor said. “I mean, I assumed. Or hoped. I kept meaning to ask; I remember how much you used to enjoy it.”

“You did too,” Zac replied.

Taylor smiled softly. “Yeah, but you were always so much better than me. Hell, you were better at just coloring in between the lines than I was. I guess that may explain a few things about us, now that I think about it.”

Zac didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just looked down and swirled his brush around in the dirty water. 

“Look, Zac,” Taylor said, then cleared his throat. “I really am sorry about last night. I let some stuff at the club get to me. That wasn’t fair to you. I can’t… I can’t treat you like and expect you to comfort me like that when I’m upset.”

“We always used to share your bed when you were upset,” Zac blurted out, the memory suddenly coming back to him. 

Zac hadn’t really understood at the time, being a few years younger than Taylor, but he knew middle school had been especially rough for his brother. When Taylor had cried himself to sleep over the teasings and beatings he’d received from close minded kids, Zac hadn’t thought twice before crawling into bed with him and holding him until he calmed down and finally slept. 

Zac hadn’t thought about that for years… had practically forgotten that it had ever happened. He wondered now just how much that must have meant to Taylor at the time. Not much, Zac supposed, given that Taylor had assumed that Zac felt the same way as their parents.

“We did,” Taylor replied, sinking into the floor next to Zac. “It’s a pretty good likeness, but you really need more glitter on the eyes. I probably have some you could use.”

Not knowing what else to do, Zac laughed out loud at the absurdity of the entire situation. 

“What?” Taylor asked, his eyelids fluttering in confusion.

Zac looked him up and down. “Well, maybe my memory just isn’t that good, but I don’t recall all of… this… back then. The makeup and everything.”

“Oh,” Taylor said, then shrugged. “You don’t remember the stage makeup from theatre? And yelling at me for getting it all over the bathroom towels?”

Zac laughed. He hadn’t remembered it until Taylor mentioned it. “Okay, but that was for theatre. This is… for fun?”

“Yeah,” Taylor replied. “It’s what I studied in college. Well, my major was theatre, but SUNY-Buffalo had courses in costume and makeup design, too. I didn’t really have a plan for the future, so working at a makeup counter seems to be the best use of my skills for now. I could definitely see myself as a makeup artist to the stars or whatever, though. But as for why I wear so much makeup and dress up the way I do… it’s just self-expression, like anything else. I did a few drag shows for fun in college, but that’s not really my scene. But dressing up and looking pretty… why not?”

“I guess that makes sense,” Zac replied, although he wasn’t entirely sure that it did. 

“Let me get you some of that glitter,” Taylor said suddenly, standing up before Zac could ask any more questions to try to understand this enigma that was supposedly his brother.

Zac sighed, and pulled his paint brush out of the water. He dipped it into some silver paint and went back to work on Taylor’s makeup, feeling suddenly very self-conscious about his brother not only watching but contributing to this self-portrait.

Taylor returned a moment later with several pots of glitter and deposited them on the floor next to Zac. Zac picked up one that contained a brilliant sea green and examined it, deciding it would be a good place to start. To Zac’s relief, he turned away then and switched on the television. 

The volume was low, however, and a moment later, Taylor spoke again. “How come you’re studying art history instead of studio art? Or hell, just _being_ an artist somewhere?”

“Because that’s not practical,” Zac replied, parroting the line he’d heard from both Carly and his parents a billion times. “I can’t make a living off my paintings.”

“Have you even tried?” Taylor asked, his tone a bit more curious than judgmental. “And how can you make a living off boring academic studies?”

Zac shrugged. “Teach art history, I suppose. Just repeat the cycle. Like you said, I really didn’t think that far ahead.”

“Just did what was expected of you, huh?” Taylor asked, a tinge of some emotion Zac couldn’t quite name in his voice.

“Yeah, well,” Zac mumbled, not sure he wanted to continue this conversation. What did it matter? It was too late to change his plans now, and what was so wrong about sometimes doing what was expected of you, anyway?

Taylor cleared his throat, seeming to sense Zac’s discomfort. “I just think you should paint more, that’s all. You’re too good not to. And I’ve gotta say, based on how nice you’ve got me looking, you’d be a pretty good hand at makeup, too. Did you ever think about it?”

Zac turned his head and stared blankly up at Taylor. “Think about what?”

“Wearing a little,” Taylor replied. “Makeup, I mean. Even just some eye liner. Or a little gloss--not that your lips need it at all.”

Zac could do nothing more than stare up at Taylor in complete disbelief. Makeup was fine for Taylor, but for him? Zac couldn’t see it at all. Why did Taylor need to make him up, too? Why did they have to be so alike?

Then again… Zac supposed they _were_ more alike than he wanted to admit. He still thought of himself as straight, but he couldn’t deny the attraction he felt. If he could come to terms with that, at least somewhat, what did a little makeup matter?

The fact that he hadn’t quite come to terms with that seemed fairly irrelevant to the conversation at hand.

“Okay, okay,” Taylor said, laughing at Zac’s expression. “But seriously, think about it. Just once; just to try it.”

“Yeah… maybe,” Zac mumbled, then returned his attention the painting. It wasn’t a refusal, but it wasn’t a yes, either.

The two of them sat in relative silence for a while, Zac working on his painting, adding more detail thanks to Taylor’s surprisingly varied collection of glitter, and Taylor watching television and occasionally making suggestions about how to do the makeup. 

The longer they remained silent, the more Zac had time to think. He kept coming back to the previous night’s events and his remaining confusion over just why Taylor had been so upset. He didn’t want to ask, and yet…

“Hey, Tay?” Zac asked softly.

“Yeah?” Taylor replied.

“What, umm, what was that all about last night? I mean, why I needed to come get you so early. Not—not what happened after we got back here.”

Taylor’s eyelashes fluttered and his eyes lost focus, not looking quite at Zac. “I told you. Didn’t I? I ran into Devin, my ex, and words were exchanged. It was stupid, but it upset me.”

Taylor’s words were clipped, and Zac had a feeling there was more that he wasn’t telling him, but Zac had no clue how to ask. He had no clue where to even begin. That little ball of jealousy at the slightest mention of Devin formed in his stomach again, and he hated it. He wasn’t supposed to be jealous, both because the relationship was over and because it was his _brother_.

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Taylor said, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself than like he was trying to convince Zac.

Either way, Zac _wasn’t_ convinced, but he did decide that it was best just to let the subject be dropped. Whatever had happened between Taylor and Devin, Zac was better off not knowing, if only just to keep his own jealousy at bay.

Without another word, he turned back to his painting, not at all convinced that it was a worthwhile use of his time. At least Taylor didn’t seem to hate it… or him. That was a small victory to be happy about, but at the moment, it seemed to be all that Zac had.


	14. The Weight of the World

On Monday, Zac returned to campus and his classes as though nothing had happened, operating entirely on autopilot. Perhaps he was finally coming out the other side of the tunnel, escaping the depression that had threatened to drag him down for so long. He didn’t really believe that, though. He had just learned how to cope and keep on surviving, if not truly living, in a suspended state. There was nothing _good_ about his life or his emotional state right then. He was just numb.

But numb was better than a lot of the other options, Zac decided.

In his numb state, he didn’t register a single word any of his professors said, but that didn’t really matter. Nothing mattered. Nothing but Taylor, of course.

Once his classes ended, Zac found himself just wandering aimlessly around campus. He’d unearthed an old sketchbook in his closet while digging for his paints, and as a last thought before leaving his apartment, he’d tossed it into his messenger bag. With no appetite, he decided to skip lunch and instead sat down under a tree and began to sketch. 

“Hey, Zac!” A voice called out, interrupting his third study of Taylor. 

He glanced up and saw Shaun headed his way. There was no escape, and so Zac forced a smile and a wave.

Shaun flopped down onto the grass next to him. “Man, I feel like I haven’t seen you in years. What’s going on?”

“Not much,” Zac replied. 

“Yeah?” Shaun asked, not sounding entirely convinced. “Well, I think Drew and me were going out to check out some band at that new club in Red River tonight. You up for it?”

“Umm, I don’t know,” Zac stuttered out. “I think, uh, Taylor might be—”

Shaun’s eyes widened. “Taylor? Who’s she?”

Zac realized too late that he’d said too much. Had he been so lost in his own problems for that long, that he hadn’t even told his best friends about Taylor’s return to his life? Melissa knew, of course, but he had been drifting away from Shaun and Drew for so long that he hardly even noticed their absence from his life… or his absence from theirs.

“He,” Zac managed to choke out. “Taylor. My brother Taylor. He’s, uh, he’s been in Austin for a while and he just found me.”

Shaun’s eyes widened, and his mouth twitched a few times before finally settling into a smile. “Well, hell. Why haven’t you brought him around? We’ve heard so much about this brother. Don’t you think it’s about time we met him?”

Zac wasn’t even sure it was time for _him_ to meet Taylor, not the Taylor who existed now, at least. Then he had to remind himself that this was who Taylor had always been, in some way. Wasn’t it? Zac wasn’t even sure who he himself was anymore.

“Zac? Earth to Zac,” Shaun said, chuckling softly. “Why don’t you bring him out to the club this weekend?”

Zac shook his head. Reality crashed back down upon him at Shaun’s words, and he wished he could have somehow kept Taylor a secret forever. “No, I don’t… I don’t think he’s much of a partier. Not the clubbing type.”

It was an absolute lie, but Zac hoped Shaun bought it. Shaun nodded slowly, as though he were carefully considering Zac’s words, then finally gave him a big smile.

“That’s cool, that’s cool,” Shaun replied. “You haven’t been much of one either lately. Not since you met that chick… what was her name?”

“I don’t remember,” Zac lied, his mouth going dry as he said the words. This conversation was treading into very dangerous territory, and Zac had no good lies prepared to save his ass. “Things didn’t really go anywhere with her.”

Shaun just shook his head, still smiling. “Well, what about you and Melissa? You guys have been hanging out a lot more, right?”

“It’s not like that,” Zac said, although he really wasn’t sure anymore what it _was_ like. Melissa had said they were still just friends, but they had done some less than friendly things. Could things really go back to normal after that? They certainly hadn’t with Taylor, but then again, Taylor was his brother.

“Yeah, alright,” Shaun said. “We’ll see about that. I’ve gotta run, though. But we’ll make some plans for this weekend later and maybe we can all meet that brother of yours, huh?”

Zac nodded, but didn’t speak. He was fairly certain if he opened his mouth, no actual words would come out anyway, just a scream or a sob.

Once Shaun finally left him alone, Zac tried to resume drawing, but his concentration was gone. The moment was ruined. He groaned and slammed his notebook down on the grass, not caring if he stained the page he’d been working on.

“What’s wrong?” Melissa asked, and Zac jumped, not having realized she had walked up in time to see his miniature tantrum.

“Everything,” he replied, pouting. It wasn’t far from the truth, but he felt better if he made it seem like a joke when talking to her.

Melissa plopped down on the grass next to him. “Everything. Okay. Starting with…?”

Zac shook his head. There was only one place to start, and it was the one thing he still absolutely didn’t want to tell Melissa at all. 

“Still not talking about it, huh?” She asked, only the slightest tinge of annoyance to her voice. “That’s alright. I’ll wear you down eventually.”

“I doubt that,” Zac replied, but he was beginning to think she was right. With a sigh, he asked, “Who am I, Melly?” 

“I’m not sure I’m the right person to ask, given that we’ve only _really_ known each other for a few weeks,” she said. “But to me, you’re a sweet, sensitive guy who feels way too much and thinks way too much and worries way too much. And you’ve had to deal with a lot, some of which I don’t even know about yet, that has worn you down. But you’re still standing. You’re stronger than you think you are. Honestly. And you’re also a really good artist, if this is anything to judge by.”

To Zac’s horror, she had picked up his sketchbook and was scrutinizing the drawing of Taylor. Unlike Shaun, Melissa would know exactly who it was. Zac was afraid to see how she was interpret that; she already knew too much about the fact that all of his troubles revolved around Taylor. But she would never… could never… figure out the truth. It was too outlandish. Wasn’t it?

“It really is a shame he plays for the wrong team,” Melissa practically sighed out.

“Are you seriously suggesting that you’d go after my brother if he were straight? That hurts Melly, it really hurts.” In spite of himself, Zac smiled.

Melissa nudged him. “Oh, hush. You know you’re still my number one. I’m just remarking on the unfairness of such a gorgeous specimen being completely out of my league.”

“Yeah, well,” Zac mumbled. “Just as long as I’m still your favorite.”

She grinned. “Of course you are, sweetie. But I like him. He seems a lot like you. Like he’s got a lot of pain he doesn’t want to talk about. I don’t want to sound preachy or demanding or whatever, but you should talk to him. And maybe you can share whatever your troubles are with him, too.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Zac mumbled, his head falling so that his hair covered his eyes. That was a plus to growing his hair out again, he decided; it was so much easier to just hide behind it and hide his emotions from those around him.

But he couldn’t hide from Melly. She could already see through him so much and it scared him. As outlandish as it was, it had to be only a matter of time before she saw the truth about him and Taylor, too.

“I know he’s part of the problem,” she said softly, once again seeming to read his mind.

“Wh-what do you mean?” Zac stuttered out unconvincingly. 

Melissa rolled her eyes. “Your long lost brother comes back into your life after nearly a decade apart, thanks to your wonderful parents, and you think it’s going to be all smiles and rainbows? It’s got to be tough. I can’t even imagine.”

“I wish I couldn’t,” Zac mumbled. It was the understatement of the year.

“It’s just going to take time,” she continued. “But talking to him, letting him know how you feel, couldn’t hurt. Maybe in the short term it will hurt a little, but bottling the emotions up won’t help either.”

“But I’m so good at bottling things up,” Zac replied, smirking slightly. He had hoped to lighten the mood, but Melissa’s serious look said that she wasn’t going to let him get away with that. “Okay, okay. I’ll try to talk to him. I can’t guarantee I’ll get very far, but I’ll try.”

He was fairly certain they had already talked enough and said all that they needed to say about it. The fact that they hadn’t yet discussed the kisses they had shared the previous weekend was irrelevant. Those didn’t need to be discussed at all, Zac thought. But he had just made Melissa a promise. He was screwed.

“That’s all I ask of you,” she said, smiling a little. “Just try. I believe in you, even if you don’t believe in yourself.”

“You hit the nail on the head there,” Zac said, sighing.

Melissa leaned against him and sighed herself. “It’s a good thing I’m such an optimist or being friends with you would seriously get me down. But unfortunately, I need to get to work soon. You think you’ll make it through the afternoon without me?”

“It’ll be tough, but I think I’ll survive.” Zac smirked as he said it, but he hoped Melissa realized it really wasn’t that much of a joke.

Melissa just leaned more heavily against him and gave him arm a squeeze. “You’ll be fine, sweetie. But give me a text or a call later and let me know, alright? And keep me updated on this talk you and pretty boy are going to have.”

“Yeah, alright,” Zac replied, giving her the best smile he could manage. “You have fun shelving those books.”

Melissa laughed as she pried herself away from him and stood it. “It’s always a riot, you know that. See ya later.”

“See ya, Melly.”

He watched her walk away, then glanced back at his notebook again. His desire to draw pictures of Taylor was gone, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t stay gone for a long. Taylor seemed to be the only thing on his mind lately, which didn’t bode very well for his classes. Then again, he had never been that great of a student; he did just enough to coast but never lived up to all the potential everyone claimed he had.

He thought back to Taylor’s question to him the other day. Why _was_ he in grad school, considering the fact that he really had only ever been a mediocre student? He supposed it was because he didn’t know what else to do with his life. Somehow, Zac had reasoned, if he kept giving school another try, he might get better at it.

What was he even doing here, he asked himself, as he looked around at the campus in front of him? Was he really just wasting his entire life on something he didn’t even want?

Just as the weight of the world crashing down upon him, leaving him feeling like he couldn’t breathe, his phone began to buzz in his pocket. Even though he felt buried under a crushing pain, he managed to pry his phone out and look at the text on the screen.

_Hey, are you still on campus? Meet me at J2 for lunch. We need to talk. – Drew_


	15. The Truth

Zac stared at his phone as thought it might bite him, even though of course he knew that was impossible. The text from Drew had seemed so ominous, though, and he feared what Drew could possibly want to talk about. Surely it was nothing bad, though. What could Drew know of all the trouble in his life? After all, Shaun hadn’t even known that Taylor had returned.

Somewhat reassured, Zac headed to the dining hall with only a little dread in his heart. He hopped in line at the campus coffee shop and bought himself a plain black coffee and a ham sandwich. Still feeling like he might never recover from his hangover from the weekend, he decided that was the most he would be able to eat. And if Drew _did_ have something bad to discuss, then Zac was wasn’t sure he would even be able to stomach that much.

He finally located Drew at an isolated little booth, nursing his own coffee. He offered Zac a smile, but it didn’t spread entirely to his eyes. That wasn’t very reassuring, Zac thought.

“Hey,” Zac managed to rasp as he sat down. “What’s up? Your text sounded kinda… dire.”

“It’s not that bad,” Drew said. “I mean, I don’t think it is. I just wanted to talk to you about it first, kinda privately. Just in case.”

That _really_ wasn’t reassuring. Zac pushed his sandwich away, deciding he wouldn’t be able to stomach even a single bite.

Drew cleared his throat. “Look, you know that night we went out to that bar? You met some girl and went home with her or whatever?”

“Sh-she drove me home,” Zac stuttered out, certain he knew exactly what night Drew was referring to.

“You were pretty wasted,” Drew continued. “So I don’t know if you realized, and I didn’t that night, but I saw her again and… I’m pretty sure _she’s_ a _he_.”

Zac tried to adopt a properly shocked look, although all he really wanted to do was crawl under the table and die. How could he have thought they wouldn’t be discovered? Taylor made a convincing woman if you were drunk enough, but one only needed to take a closer look to realize the truth. Of course someone was bound to notice that the girl Zac had been with wasn’t a girl at all.

“That’s… that’s umm,” Zac stuttered, hoping to buy himself some time while he thought of a convincing lie. “I mean, I was pretty drunk. I barely even remember what she looked like.”

Drew nodded. “That’s what I figured, but I thought you’d want a heads up before you went looking for her again or anything, you know?”

Zac nodded. He swallowed hard and said a silent prayer for the lies he was about to spew. “It wasn’t… it wasn’t like that, anyway. I mean, she—he drove me home but that was all. He didn’t stay. Nothing happened.”

“And that’s what I figured,” Drew replied. “I mean, if anything had—you’d already know, right? That would make it pretty obvious that it was a guy underneath it all. Not to say that I would—and I’m just speaking for myself here—I wouldn’t judge you if anything _did_ happen. It’s your life.”

Drew seemed to be backpedaling at an alarming rate and Zac wasn’t sure if he was sincere, but he nodded anyway, acknowledging his friend’s attempt at understanding what had happened. Not that Drew really had any clue at all; Zac was sure he would be far less understanding if he did.

“I just, you know, wanted to give you a little warning or whatever,” Drew said, then paused to take a sip of his coffee. “And I haven’t said a word to Shaun. You know how he is—not that he would judge you either, but he can just be…”

“Loud? Intense? Oblivious?” Zac offered.

Drew chuckled. “He kinda steamrolls over people, yeah. And I figured this is pretty much over, no reason to even think about it now, but it would be better if we kept it between you and me.”

“Agreed,” Zac replied. 

Drew took another long sip of his coffee, then slapped his hand against the table. “So we’re cool? I’ve gotta get to soccer practice, but I’m glad I managed to catch you before then.”

“We’re cool,” Zac replied, although he was feeling anything but.

“Alright,” Drew said, giving Zac a smile that said he hadn’t seen through Zac’s veneer of false tranquility. “Maybe we can make some plans this weekend. I know Shaun is dying to get back out to some club or another.”

“Just as long as it’s not the Electric Ballroom.” Zac chuckled as he said it, hoping to turn it into a joke, when in fact it sounded like a nightmare scenario to possibly have to explain the truth about “Jordan” to his friends.

Drew just shook his head and laughed. “No worries, man. I don’t think we’ll be going back there any time soon. See ya later.”

Zac watched his friend walk away, then let out a long, shaky sigh once he’d gone. Whatever he had expected from Drew’s text… it wasn’t that. He was skating on the thinnest possible ice now, he realized. He didn’t know how he was going to keep the truth hidden, especially when he had just told Shaun about his brother’s return. All of his friends knew bits and pieces of the full story, and Zac realized he somehow had to keep them all from comparing notes… and meeting Taylor.

 _Too late for that_ , he thought. Melissa had been the closest to piecing it all together, but now he feared the entire world would know the truth before too long.

****

Zac was in a daze for the rest of the day. He barely heard a word his professors said during his afternoon classes, and not a single one of them stuck in his head. All he could think about, though, was his conversation with Drew. He knew he needed to tell Taylor, but that likely meant talking about that first night and the things they had done. While it didn’t necessarily mean the latter, it was far too close for comfort. The more they talked about it or things adjacent to it, the harder it became for Zac to hide and deny his feelings.

Finally his classes ended for the afternoon and he had little reason to linger on campus and avoid Taylor. He didn’t even know for sure if Taylor would be home, but he had his suspicions. It was just his luck that Taylor would be home early on the night when he really didn’t want him to be. Just to prolong the inevitable, he spent a few hours in the library reading his text books in the hopes of compensating for the lectures he’d daydreamed his way through and looking up journal articles on his thesis topic. 

Melissa was just going on her break when Zac finally left, finding no more excuses to avoid Taylor. Even the offer of dinner with her didn’t sway him into staying on campus. He had to face his fears, Zac decided.

When he arrived back at his apartment he saw that Taylor’s car was in fact in its usual place. The fact that it even _had_ a usual place made Zac uncomfortable, but there was no way to go back in time and refuse to let Taylor stay with him. Zac knew that even if he could, he wouldn’t. Whatever else he was, Taylor was still his brother.

He wasn’t surprised to smell food when he stepped into the apartment, and as soon as the door slammed behind him, Taylor appeared and gave him a smile. “You may need to stick it in the microwave, but there’s beef stroganoff in the kitchen.”

“Thanks,” Zac said weakly, all of his resolve melting at the sight of Taylor, disheveled and—he had to admit, at least to himself—gorgeous in his thin white t-shirt and jeans.

Zac wiggled past Taylor, trying to put as much distance between their bodies as he possibly could. In such a small apartment, it was really an exercise in futility, but he hadn’t try. The shameful truth was that he just didn’t trust himself. Taylor seemed unfazed by being so near him, but every little look and touch drove Zac insane. It was only a matter of time before he snapped completely.

He microwaved the stroganoff and sat down to eat his dinner in silence and, ideally, alone. It was every bit as delicious as he’d come to expect from Taylor’s cooking, and that somehow only made Zac feel worse. He didn’t deserve how nice Taylor had been to him. If he told Taylor the truth about his feelings for him… it would surely undo what little progress they had made. It would ruin everything. Even telling Taylor what Drew had said might throw their delicate balance off.

It almost wasn’t worth risking it, but Zac knew Taylor needed to be warned. 

After finishing his dinner and rinsing off his plate, Zac walked into the living room resolved to finally talk to Taylor. His brother was nowhere to be seen, but he heard murmurs that seemed to be coming from Taylor’s room. Did Taylor have company? Zac didn’t think so. He was probably on the phone, Zac decided, but that didn’t stop him from padding down the hall and rapping gently on his door.

“No, it’s not like—” Taylor could be heard saying. “Devin, no. Really.”

Zac’s stomach turned at the name. He didn’t even know this Devin, but he already knew that he didn’t like him. Then again, Zac thought, he might not have reconnected with Taylor if not for Devin’s role in Taylor eventually becoming homeless. Still, he didn’t like him. Not one bit.

“Will you please just—” Once again, Taylor was cut off. “I’ve got to go. I don’t know. I’ll think about it, okay?”

Taylor sounded utterly exhausted and beaten down, and Zac hated Devin for doing that to him. He didn’t even know what they had been talking about, but it was obvious he was trying to talk Taylor into something. Whatever it was, Zac was positive he didn’t want Taylor to do it.

The bedroom door suddenly opened, and Zac jumped. He’d been so lost in his thoughts that it took him entirely by surprise, and left him speechless. Whatever he had wanted to say, it was all entirely gone from his mind now. 

“Yeah?” Taylor asked, looking like he was on the verge of tears. “Did you need something?”

Zac shook his head. “No, I—is everything okay?”

“It’s just Devin,” Taylor replied with a dismissive shrug that belied the look in his eyes. “He seems to think we’re going to get back together.” 

“Are you?” Zac asked, even though he was certain he didn’t want the answer.

“I don’t think so,” Taylor replied, but he didn’t seem so confident. He sighed. “What would you say if your ex—Carly, right?—called and begged you to take her back.”

Zac stuttered out a few pitiful noises that weren’t even words, but couldn’t answer. He genuinely didn’t know. In spite of what he felt for Taylor and even what he had done with Melissa, he didn’t know. He didn’t love Carly anymore; not the way that he used to. But could he really turn her down?

Taylor nodded knowingly. “It’s like that. I really don’t know.”

“I think… umm,” Zac stuttered out, then shook his head and backed away from Taylor. “Nevermind. What I wanted… it’s not important.”

It was a lie, but it was all Zac could say. He stumbled away and closed his bedroom door behind him, effectively blocking Taylor out. He thought he was strong enough for this, but he was wrong. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t tell him the truth.


	16. Again

Zac really should have known Taylor wouldn’t let him get away with just walking away like that. He should have known it was only a matter of time before his brother demanded answers from him. He had hoped he would at least have the night, but naturally, his luck wasn’t that good. 

In reality, he had about an hour. Just enough time to beat the boss on the video game he’d been playing on the small television he kept in his bedroom, but not enough time to figure out what the hell he was going to say to Taylor.

Taylor’s knock was so soft as to be almost imperceptible. Zac had to pause his game and listen closely before he was certain that it hadn’t been a figment of his imagination. Of course, it wasn’t. Deep down, he knew it wasn’t, and he also knew that he couldn’t ignore it.

He padded to the door, unlocked it and opened it only a few inches. To his surprise, Taylor shoved it the rest of the way open and barged into his room, his long legs carrying him to the center of the room so fast it nearly made Zac’s head spin.

“Alright,” Taylor said. “I’m done with this. We are done with this. We are going to stop ignoring this. We are going to talk about it, damn it.”

“It?” Zac asked, deciding to play dumb even if it would only buy him a few seconds.

Taylor sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “What happened between us. What _is_ happening between us.”

Zac shook his head. What could he say? He didn’t know what was happening. He could talk, he could perhaps even answer some of Taylor’s questions, but not that one.

“Zac,” Taylor said, taking a step closer to him. Zac instinctively stepped back. “I know the first time it was an accident. I understand that. I didn’t know it was you and you didn’t know it was me. It’s still messed up, I know, but we’ve moved past that, haven’t we? God, is it even possible to move past that? I don’t know, Zac. You’re not giving me anything.”

“I want to move past that,” Zac replied weakly.

“Well, how?” Taylor asked. “What do I need to do? Please tell me.”

Zac shook his head again. “We can’t. It’s… it’s not over. You said it yourself, it’s happening. It’s still happening. Even if we could move past the first time, it’s not… it wasn’t the last time.”

“So you’re finally acknowledging what happened when I was drunk?”

It was now or never, Zac realized. With another decisive head shake, he replied, “No. I mean, yeah. I am. But what I mean is… it’s not going to be the last time. You know it won’t be. I… I know it won’t be.”

Taylor stared at him, and for a moment Zac feared he had made a horrible mistake. After all, they had both been drunk those two nights. Taylor hadn’t, as far as Zac could tell, shown any sober interest in him. What if it was all just a horrible mistake that Taylor wanted to put behind him? When Taylor took a few steps closer to him, Zac braced himself for a punch or slap.

None came.

Instead, he felt Taylor’s hand caressing his cheek, and seconds later, Taylor’s lips pressing against his. A voice in the back of his head told Zac it must be a joke, but when Taylor’s lips began to move, he knew it wasn’t. Zac barely had the presence of mind to kiss Taylor back, and his legs were trembling so hard he wasn’t sure he would remain standing for much longer either.

Too soon, Taylor pulled back, his hand still resting on Zac’s cheek. Softly, he asked, “Is that what you want? Again?”

“Again and again,” Zac replied, not meeting Taylor’s eyes. 

“Do you really know what you’re asking for?” Taylor pulled his hand back.

“No,” Zac admitted. “But I know we’ve been without each other for too long, and I don’t know how else to make up for that lost time. I don’t know how to be your brother anymore. I don’t know… what else to do. Just let me have this. No matter how wrong it is, just let me have this.”

Taylor nodded. The movement was almost imperceptible at first, but quickly became more decisive. He stepped in closer to Zac again and grasped both of his wrists. “But if I do something you don’t want… if you change your mind… tell me. I can’t imagine what this must be like for you.”

“But don’t… don’t you want it, too?” Zac wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer, yet he knew he had to ask.

“It’s not that I don’t want it,” Taylor replied. “It’s not… it’s not about that. But Zac, you’re not… Look, I’ve never doubted who I was. I’ve pretty much always known what I wanted. But unless I missed something big, you’re not…”

“Gay?” Zac offered.

Taylor nodded. 

“I’m not… I don’t…” Zac stuttered out, then finally mustered up the nerve to grasp Taylor’s hip and pull him closer. “I just want you. I don’t know anything more than that, and I don’t want to think about anything more than that. Just you.”

“That’s okay,” Taylor replied, slowly walking Zac back toward the bed. “You don’t have to think about anything else. Or anything at all. And you don’t have to _do_ anything, either.”

Zac felt his knees hit the bed, and he let himself fall into a seated position on the edge of it, Taylor standing in front of him between his legs. “I don’t want to talk anymore.”

“Then we won’t,” Taylor replied, falling to his knees in front of Zac.

Zac kept his eyes trained on Taylor as he kissed down his neck and ran his hand up and down his chest. He knew what Taylor’s next destination was, and it made his eyes flutter back in his head. Although his memory of that night at the club was hazy, he remembered _that_.

Taylor tugged at Zac’s jeans, and Zac obligingly lifted his hips to help Taylor push them down. His boxer briefs followed, and then Taylor’s lips were on him. If possible, it was even better than Zac remembered, all hot and warm and wet and so, so wrong. And then it stopped. Zac let out a low whine as Taylor pulled back, and Taylor just laughed.

Zac watched Taylor stand up and he wanted to scream. Was it all a joke? Was Taylor going to leave? But no. It wasn’t and he wasn’t. Zac’s eyed widened as he watched Taylor strip his clothes off quickly, practically tearing at the fabric. He followed suit, fumbling to kick his pants and underwear off into the floor and pulling his ponytail loose in the process of tugging his shirt over his head. 

He had no more than flung the shirt away when Taylor was on him, pushing him back onto the bed. It wasn’t especially rushed or even that forceful, but it still took his breath away. It was happening. It was really happening. And he was scared shitless, but he wouldn’t dare admit that to Taylor. Zac had a feeling his brother already knew, anyway.

Their limbs tangled together as the two of them seemed to struggle for dominance. Zac wouldn’t have ever considered himself a dominant person, but he supposed he had by default taken that role in all of his previous sexual experiences. But now, pinned underneath his brother’s surprisingly strong body, he didn’t feel dominant at all or remotely equipped for the situation at hand. He hoped Taylor would take the lead and guide him along, but he didn’t know how to ask for that.

Taylor seemed to instinctively understand what Zac needed, though. He maneuvered their bodies around until they were both lying on the bed, every inch of skin pressed together. If Zac had any doubt that Taylor wanted this as much as he did, it vanished the moment he felt Taylor’s long, hard dick pressing against his. If he had any shred of dignity left, he was sure it was gone then, too, judging by the way his hips bucked up off the mattress at the first contact.

“What do you need?” Taylor asked.

Zac couldn’t answer. He could only shake his head and whimper.

Taylor pressed a gentle kiss to Zac’s lips, as if to assure him that it was okay not to have an answer, not to know anything at all. All he knew was that he _needed_ ; anything more specific than that, he couldn’t say.

An eyebrow slightly raised, Taylor let his hand slither between their bodies and wrap around both of their dicks. It was an impressive feat, given that Taylor seemed to match Zac for girth and exceed him in length, but Taylor’s long, thin fingers were up to the task.

“Oh, god,” Zac gasped out, his head falling back against the pillow. 

Taylor propped himself up on his elbows and rolled his hips against Zac’s. Zac rolled his up to match, although his pace was much more frantic and lacked the rhythm of Taylor’s. He was pathetic, he knew. He was far past the point of caring. All he wanted was exactly what Taylor was giving him and more.

“Like this?” Taylor asked, although Zac was sure the answer should have been glaringly obvious. 

“Please,” was the only response Zac could muster.

Taylor just grinned. He pulled himself up to more of a seated position and Zac didn’t even want to think about the part of Taylor closest to him then. If he thought too much about that he would—

“Oh, fuck,” Zac groaned out.

Through blurry eyes, he could see Taylor’s hand wrapping around his own cock again, while Zac’s remained sandwiched between their bodies. The pressure and friction were too much for him, and he didn’t even try to fight it. He let the pleasure take him over until all he was aware of was the feeling of it coursing through his body and Taylor’s moans filling his ears.

Zac thought he might have passed out for a moment. The next thing he was aware of was Taylor collapsing, half on and half off his body. Taylor nuzzled his neck gently and all Zac could do was murmur something he hoped sounded as happy as he felt.

“Is that… was that alright?” Taylor asked, his voice surprisingly low and hoarse.

“Alright isn’t quite the word,” Zac replied, laughing awkwardly. “I’ll think of a better word in the morning.”

“As long as you don’t hate me,” Taylor mumbled.

Zac brushed Taylor’s hair back and touched his cheek. “After everything… I couldn’t.”

He hated himself for being so sappy, and he hated himself even more when he felt the tears running down his cheeks. Taylor kissed the trail left by one of them, then pressed his lips to Zac’s. The kiss was brief and chaste compared to the others they had shared, but Zac needed that it was his favorite, even if it did taste a little salty.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” Zac asked.

“Yeah,” Taylor replied. “Tonight, tomorrow night… until you kick me out.”

“I won’t do that,” Zac replied, his tone deadly serious.

Taylor’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mean… god, I wasn’t thinking of it like that. What a bad joke, huh?”

“I’m sorry, you know,” Zac said. “I mean, I know I couldn’t have stopped them. But I’m sorry that I didn’t try. I’m sorry that I didn’t stand up to them, ever, and tell them that you weren’t… weren’t the horrible person they thought were. That there was nothing wrong with you, that you were my brother and… and I loved you, even if they couldn’t.”

“Zac,” Taylor breathed out, caressing his cheek, his thumb wiping away another tear. “You didn’t need to do that. Even if you had said all of that to them, you think they would have heard it? Really heard it and taken it to heart? Of course not. But I’m glad you told me. And I’m sorry that I ever doubted you and thought you were anything less than the amazing, wonderful person you really are.”

Zac wasn’t so sure about amazing or wonderful. He wasn’t sure what sort of person he was at all, especially given what he had just done with his own brother of all people. But he had his brother back. Of that he was certain, and for the moment, that was all that mattered.


	17. Staying or Going

Zac woke up alone in the morning, and that realization made a strange lump form in his throat. Was it all just a mistake? Had Taylor abandoned him? Before he could truly panic, though, he heard the coffee machine that he knew he hadn’t remembered to set the night before. Someone had turned it on, and that someone had to be Taylor.

He hated himself for doubting his brother. 

It wasn’t as though Taylor had ever left him by choice. Deep down, Zac knew that. He also knew what it felt like to go years and years without the boy he looked up to and wanted to shelter all at the same time. He never wanted to feel that way again, and he was slowly beginning to accept that he wouldn’t have to.  
With some effort, Zac pulled himself out of bed. He checked his phone, after finally unearthing it in his jeans pocket, and was dismayed to discover that he was very nearly late for class. He could still make it on time if he didn’t shower, but after the last night with Taylor, a shower hardly seemed optional. 

It took a minute or two to locate a relatively clean outfit, and only slightly longer to force himself through a quick, cold shower. By the time he made it to the kitchen, Taylor was sipping a cup of coffee and had sat out two plates of toast, fried eggs and bacon.

“I overslept,” Zac said, as though it was an apology for something, and began assembling his breakfast into something of a sandwich he could take with him. By the time he was done, Taylor was holding out a hot thermos, and it only made Zac feel guiltier. “Thanks, Tay.”

“You’re welcome,” Taylor replied, glancing down. “I was, umm, I was hoping we would have time to talk.”

“Maybe after class?” Zac suggested. “I can skip the library and be home for dinner if you’ll… if you’ll be here.”

Taylor nodded. “I’ll be here. After last night, I’d say we still have plenty to talk about it, but I’m not going to push it, I promise.”

“No, it’s—it’s okay,” Zac replied, but the words sounded like a lie. They weren’t, exactly, but he had no clue _what_ to say about what they had done. He let his hand brush Tay’s for a moment too long as he accepted the thermos and said, “I’ll see you later. And we’ll… we’ll talk.”

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t really the truth either, and the words felt heavy in Zac’s mouth. He scurried out the door with another apology about running late, but now he didn’t feel so bad about his tardiness. At least it gave him an excuse to not prolong the exchange with Taylor. If they talked too long, Zac feared they would begin to talk about territory that scared him, or they would actually venture into that territory again. He was quickly realizing the strength of his feelings for Taylor, feelings that couldn’t yet put into words, and that scared him. 

They needed to draw a line somewhere, Zac realized. But even as he realized it, he knew they were far past any possible point where a line could have been drawn. 

With nothing else to do right then to solve his problems, Zac made his way to campus and hoped that he could make it through the day without thoughts of Taylor distracting him during every single lecture.

Still, Zac found his thoughts drifting all around while he should have been listening to his professors. He could try to focus all that he wanted, but it was no use. There was only one thought his brain cared about at all, and that thought had nothing to do with early modern artists at all. 

It was Taylor. It was always Taylor.

For years, Zac had wondered what it would be like to see his brother again. He had tried to imagine how Taylor would look, and he had to admit that, makeup aside, his imagination had done Taylor justice. He had tried to envision how Taylor’s personality might have changed, what his interests would be. He had imagined a billion different possibilities, dreamed up so many different versions of his long lost brother that he’d really had no idea what to expect.

But somewhere along the way, Zac realized, he had fallen in love with this nearly imaginary brother. He had dreamt up the perfect version of Taylor, this illusory ideal that would somehow magically make everything in his life better if only he would return to be a part of it. 

The real Taylor fell short of that ideal, but that didn’t make Zac love him less. If anything, his flaws only made him more perfect in Zac’s eyes. Zac knew that was irrational, and was only a sign of how much he had longed for this, how much he so desperately loved his brother. He would overlook nearly any fault, he reasoned, as long as it meant Taylor was in his life again.

And he loved him. Much, much more than he should have. Zac was quickly realizing that he had loved Taylor for years, but he hadn’t been able to put a name to the feeling until he felt Taylor’s arms around him or their lips pressed together. Of course he loved him; that was only natural. But somewhere along the way, in all of his hoping and dreaming of Taylor’s return, those feelings had twisted into a romantic sort of love.

The worst part, Zac decided, was that he didn’t want to change a thing. It might have been wrong, but maybe this was what they needed. Maybe being together like this was the only way the two of them could heal the years of hurt.

Even as he realized all of this, he knew that he couldn’t explain any of it to Taylor. Taylor’s insistence that they needed to talk, Taylor’s worry that Zac didn’t truly want it… what if _Taylor_ didn’t truly want it? What if all Taylor wanted to talk about was how this needed to end before they got in too deep?

 _Well, too late,_ Zac thought.

He zoned back in just as Dr. Phillips began passing out some sort of handout that she seemed inordinately excited about. A quick glance revealed that it was an advertisement for an exhibit of new, young artists at a trendy museum downtown. Amateurs were, apparently, encouraged to submit their work, and Dr. Phillips seemed to think this was a great opportunity for her students. Not all art history majors were artists themselves, a fact that Zac found odd, but enough of them were that Zac was sure the museum would be flooded with submissions. Even though he had spent most of his free time sketching and painting stupid portraits of Taylor, he had no desire to put his work out there for anyone’s judgment. 

He did have a painting in progress that he’d like to get back to, though, but he decided the conversation with Taylor was probably more important. Even if it wasn’t necessarily a conversation he wanted to have, he supposed there was no point in drawing it out any longer. One the professor dismissed the class, he gathered up his belongings and headed back to his apartment, leaving the painting for another day.

When he returned to the apartment, he was greeted by the smell of warm, freshly cooked food as soon as he opened the door. It was becoming a fixture in his life, and he loved trying to guess what Taylor had cooked if his nose couldn’t immediately identify it. In this particular case, he had to walk into the kitchen to see that Taylor was just plating up a chicken stir fry of sorts that looked far healthier than anything Zac would have fixed for himself. 

Zac grabbed a soda from the refrigerator and tossed his bag down on the counter. It was cluttered with papers, which was nothing new, but a few papers in particular stood out to him. 

“What’s this?” Zac asked, holding up a sheet of photos.

“Oh,” Taylor said, glancing up from the table. “I was just working on my resume and portfolio. Making sure it was all up to date and stuff.”

“Oh… okay,” Zac replied, still feeling like he was missing something. 

“You never know,” Taylor said, giving Zac a dismissive shrug. “There are some fashion shows and things coming up that would be great opportunities for me. I want to put my best foot forward, you know?”

Zac nodded, but a lump was forming in his throat. “Fashion shows? Around here? In Austin, I mean.”

“Some of them,” Taylor said, motioning for Zac to sit down. Zac hadn’t realized he was still standing, nor did he really have much of an appetite anymore. “Some stuff in Dallas, and a few in California that a friend of mine told me about. That’s where a lot of the work is, obviously—special effects makeup for movies and things.”

“Does that mean… does that mean you would have to move?” Zac didn’t want to know the answer, but it seemed obvious anyway. Of course Taylor would have to move. Of course he would have to leave him.

“Well, yeah,” Taylor said. “I mean, if I get one of the jobs and decide to take it. Which is all still very hypothetical at this point. But Austin isn’t… it’s a great place, but it’s not necessarily where I want to be forever, you know? It was just meant to be a stop along the way.”

“Oh.” Zac’s mouth went completely dry. He had only just gotten Taylor back, and now he was going to leave again? It wasn’t fair, and yet he knew he couldn’t ask Taylor to give up on his dreams because his little brother needed him.

“You don’t want to stay here forever either, do you?” Taylor asked, his tone softening a bit. “I mean, is this is? You graduate and get a job here and just stay in this apartment forever?”

“I hadn’t thought about it,” Zac answered honestly.

“Well, maybe you should,” Taylor replied. “I’m sorry, I just think… if this is what you want, that’s fine. But you could be more than this. You are more than this. Think what a great artist like you could do out in Los Angeles. You’ve got so much life ahead of you, and I don’t want to see you just coasting through it or doing what you think is expected of you. That’s all.”

Zac wanted to scream that if he followed Taylor to California, he would only be following Taylor’s dreams. But the truth was that Zac had no clue what he wanted out of his life. He didn’t know how to be anything but what people wanted of him. Being what Taylor wanted of him had to be better than most of the other options, though. Yet somehow it still made him feel sick to consider uprooting his life in Austin. 

There were no good options. He couldn’t just end his life as he knew it to chase after his brother, but he couldn’t go on living without Taylor, either.

“I think,” Zac squeaked out, staring down at the plate of food he had barely even touched. “I think I don’t feel very good. Sorry.”

He pushed back his chair and stood up before Taylor could stop him, grabbing his backpack and heading for the door. He could hear Taylor calling after him that he would save him a plate to reheat later, but Zac didn’t pause to answer him.

He was taking the coward’s way out, avoiding conflict completely, and he knew it. But right then, he didn’t know what else to do. When every option presented to him—staying, going or whatever—made him feel like he was suffocating, running seemed like the only thing to do.


	18. Creepy

Without really thinking about what he was doing, Zac fell back into a routine of pretending Taylor wasn’t in his life or apartment at all. He didn’t like that he had done it, but it happened so easily that it took him a few days to even realize what he had done. He hadn’t lived on his own for long, but it seemed he had adapted to that life better than he’d thought, and so it was surprisingly easy to carry on as though there wasn’t someone else there, picking up his dirty socks and leaving him leftovers for dinner on the nights he stayed late on campus.

He wasn’t proud of it at all, but what could he do? To stop would mean admitting that he was doing it in the first place, and to do that would mean explaining _why_ he was doing it.

It just wasn’t fair, Zac decided. It wasn’t fair that Taylor could come back into his life so suddenly and then plot to leave it again just as quickly. It was, however, proof that he didn’t mean nearly as much to Taylor as Taylor did to him.

And if he didn’t mean that much to Taylor, why should he ever admit his own feelings?

Somewhere deep inside, Zac knew that all of his rationalizations wouldn’t hold up to close examination, but they were really all he had. For the moment, he was content—or at least stubborn enough—to carry on rationalizing everything away. 

Spending more and more time in the studio on campus was an easy way to avoid Taylor, and one that almost made him look like a good student, even if he really should have spent more time in the library reviewing art journals than churning out paintings no one would ever see.

His locker was quickly filling up with these paintings and sketches, and it took him some digging to find the one he was looking for. Zac couldn’t have said for sure, given the general chaos he tended to leave his space in, but it seemed like everything was in a different order than he remembered. Drawings he hadn’t touched in weeks were at the top of the stack, and something he couldn’t quite explain just seemed… off.

Zac shook his head. Why would anyone have riffled through his things? There was nothing special, valuable or worth stealing in there, and the art department was generally pretty trustworthy and respectful of each other’s’ space and belongings. 

He was definitely losing it. This was just another sign.

After a moment, he found the painting he was looking for and carried it into the unoccupied studio. He propped it up on an easel and began to lay out the paints he would need to finish it. Zac wasn’t proud of himself, but he had snatched a few of Taylor’s glitters that morning after he was sure Taylor had left for work. He rationalized that it wasn’t really stealing, since Taylor had allowed him to use them before. He just hadn’t specifically asked for permission this time, that was all. 

Anyway, Zac told himself, there was no other way to make the tray of eyeshadow in this still life look just right if he didn’t use the real thing. Just a little bit of the glitter mixed with his paint ought to do it, Zac decided, and began squeezing out colors onto his palette—electric blue, vivid green and deep violet. All the colors he could so clearly picture Taylor wearing. 

He was just starting to sketch out a bowl of cherries next to eyeshadow when he heard footsteps coming toward him. The whole art building echoed horribly, but he was certain they were headed in his direction. He wanted to cover the canvas, to deny it all somehow before anyone saw it, but his rational side told him that no one would really understand. Only he could see the meaning behind the assortment of items in this painting.

“Oh, Zac,” Melissa said, skidding to a stop in the doorway. “I thought I would find you here.”

“You were looking for me?” He asked.

“We got in that book you wanted on interlibrary loan. The one on traditional Cherokee art? I figured you were here and I’m on my way out for the evening, so I may have forged your signature and brought it on over for you.”

Melissa took a few steps into the room and shoved her hand into her messenger bag. She pulled something out and held it out, and even though Zac couldn’t accept it with his paint-stained hands, he could see that it really was the book he had asked her to send for. He wasn’t sure why he had doubted her in the first place. Definitely losing it, he thought, if he was mistrusting his new best friend.

“Well, anyway,” Melissa said, sitting the book down on a bare spot next to some paints Zac wasn’t using. “I should get back to my apartment, I guess. Are you going to hang around here for a while?”

“Probably,” Zac replied. In spite of himself, his eyes flickered back to the painting.

Melissa followed his gaze. “Yeah, I guess you’ll want to finish that. It’s… it’s nice. Different.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Zac snapped, flinching at how harsh his own voice sounded. He sighed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… well, I’m just sorry.”

Melissa shrugged. “It’s okay. But someday you’re going to want, or at least need, to talk about this stuff. Whatever it is. I know there’s something you’re not telling me, because I can see it killing you from the inside out. I wish you would tell me what it is and maybe I could help.”

“But maybe you couldn’t,” Zac replied softly.

“Maybe not,” Melissa replied. “But there’s no way to know if you don’t tell me, is there?”

Zac sighed. “I suppose not.”

“I’m sorry,” Melissa said, her shoulders falling in what looked like defeat. “I know I’m pushing, and I shouldn’t. We barely know each other, so I don’t know what makes me think I deserve to know more than you’re telling me. It’s just, you know, this is going to sound creepy, but… I watched you for a while. You’ve got one of these faces, the kind that has your emotions written all over it, and sometimes you just looked so sad, and I just worried about you. Before I even knew you, really, I knew there was something going on, something that I wished I could help make better. God, I’m creepy. I’m sorry. I’ll just go.”

Zac stared at her. It _was_ creepy, he supposed, and he had been wary of her at first because of how intense and obvious she was about her interest in him. But she was sincere. She may not have known him well or for long, but she noticed things that the guys he had called his best friends for years didn’t. That had to count for something. 

“Don’t go,” Zac managed to croak out. “I mean, maybe you are creepy, but I kind of like you, Melly. So I don’t know what that says about me.”

A slow smirk spread across Melissa’s face. “I kind of like you, too.”

“And I guess I owe you a little bit more honesty.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Melissa replied, collapsing into a nearby chair. “But if you want to talk, I’ll listen.”

“Maybe I owe it to myself, then,” Zac said softly. He glanced down at his hands, coated with dried paint and glitter, trying to figure out how to begin… and where to stop. There was nothing to do but dive right in, he supposed. His head still down so that he couldn’t see Melissa’s reaction, he said, “I guess… I mean, I guess a lot of what you saw, it all started when Carly broke up with me. But I’ve never been a happy person, at least not since—well, since high school.”

He couldn’t say Taylor’s name, he realized. It was too close to telling her the truth, and that was a bridge he wasn’t yet ready to cross.

“But I guess you know most of that,” Zac continued. “What I’m not saying… is still really scary to even think about saying. It’s just that I guess I wish I had control of my emotions, you know? But I’m realizing that I don’t, and this isn’t even about Carly anymore, although I still can’t say that I’m really over her either.”

“Is there someone else?” Melissa asked softly.

Zac nodded. “And it’s not—well, all I can really say is it’s not someone I expected to fall for. And it’s making me question… everything, really. Everything I thought I knew about myself.”

An awkward silence fell over the room, and Zac knew he had said far too much. There was really only one way for Melissa to interpret his words. It was all too close to the truth and so much more than he was ready to admit, but he couldn’t take the words back.

“Well,” Melissa finally breathed out. “What _I_ know about you is that you are a thoughtful, sensitive person. And maybe you care a little too much about what other people think of you, but it’s clear that you care about others, too. You’re sweet and loving to a fucking fault, and that may be a problem sometimes, but my point is… has any of that changed? Because I haven’t seen anything about you change in the admittedly short time I’ve really known you.”

“No,” Zac replied. “Nothing has changed. I guess. I’m in a new and really fucking different situation, but the things you said, if they’re true, are the same.”

Melissa scooted toward Zac and took his hands in hers. “They are true. And if they haven’t changed, then you haven’t, either. So you’re experiencing new things and learning new things about yourself, but none of that invalidates what you used to know.”

“I guess it’s just hard to keep sight of who I really am when everything is changing.”

“I really don’t know what all you’re going through here,” Melissa said. “But I appreciate that you’re opening up to the extent that you have, since it’s obviously something you’re really struggling with. So I don’t want to understate how much I appreciate that you’re talking about it at all, and that you trust me with it.”

“A part of me wishes I could say more,” Zac admitted. “But I can’t, at least not right now.”

Melissa nodded knowingly, although Zac was sure that she couldn’t really know. What he had said was dangerous enough, no matter how little substance it had.

“Can we talk about something else now?” Zac asked.

“Sure,” Melissa replied. “Even better, why don’t we get out of here and get something to eat? I bet you haven’t had dinner yet.”

“I haven’t,” Zac admitted.

Melissa stood up abruptly, pulling Zac up with her. “Then let’s go! What do you want? I’m paying.”

“Anything that doesn’t require being around people,” Zac replied. 

“Chinese takeout and beer?” Melissa suggested with a grin.

“Now, that,” Zac said, giving her hands a squeeze, “sounds like a perfect plan. Can I be a total mooch and ask you to drive? I walked to campus today.”

“You can always mooch off me, honey,” Melissa replied, leading Zac toward the door. “Did that sound wrong? Whatever. Let’s just go drown your sorrows in some brews and eggrolls.”

“Alright, alright,” Zac replied, prying his hands from Melissa’s and reaching for his canvas. “Let me just clean up my mess here.”

With Melissa’s help, it took only a few minutes to clear everything away so that it hardly even looked like Zac had been there at all. He liked that. Something about leaving no impression, no trace of himself at all, was oddly satisfying. He had the fleeting thought that everything would be easier if he could just disappear, but he knew that wasn’t true. It hadn’t worked for Taylor, after all.

He tried to shake away the unwanted thought of Taylor, but he couldn’t. A few beers with Melissa was exactly what he needed to clear his mind, he decided. It wouldn’t fix anything permanently, he knew, but it was what he needed right then.


	19. Every Possible Way

A few hours later, Zac found himself stumbling back into his apartment. He had been largely silent during his dinner with Melissa, which he knew made him horrible company, but he couldn’t risk revealing who the object of his affections was. Likewise, he tried his best to play it cool as she drove him home. Of course she knew he wasn’t getting along well with Taylor, but he dreaded the day she put two and two together.

For now, though, he was in the clear, at least where Melissa was concerned. Taylor was another story. As soon as Zac managed to unlock the door and stumble inside, he was aware that every single light in the apartment was on. It took him only a moment to locate Taylor, sitting at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee.

“I stayed late on campus,” Zac mumbled, feeling stupid for even assuming he needed to explain himself to Taylor. The look on his brother’s face said that it _was_ necessary, though. “Then, uh, I had dinner with Melissa.”

“Your girlfriend?” Taylor asked.

“No,” Zac replied, the word coming out with more force that he had intended. “No, I… we’re just friends. That’s absolutely all. I couldn’t date her.”

Taylor raised an eyebrow. “Why not? She’s cute. Even I can see that. I wouldn’t do anything about it, but I can see it.”

It was now or never, Zac realized. He took a few steps across the tile toward Taylor. “It wouldn’t be fair to her. Not just because I’m not really into her like that, but because… well, I _am_ into someone else. I mean, I… god, I’m so tired of fighting this, and I know you won’t believe that, because all I’ve done is fight it.”

“Fight what?” Taylor asked, standing up and walking toward Zac.

“This.” Zac motioned between their bodies. “You and me. I know it’s wrong, I know it’s fucked up, but knowing that doesn’t make it go away. I know my actions haven’t shown it, but the truth is that now that I have you back in my life, I want you to stay there. And I want you there in… every possible way.”

“Every possible way,” Taylor echoed, his voice soft and low.

Zac nodded. “Without you, I haven’t been alive at all, Tay. And god, it hurts to come back to life, but I swear I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

“Oh, Zac,” Taylor breathed out, closing the distance between them with a hand pressed to Zac’s chest. He stared intently at Zac for a moment before saying, “You’re drunk.”

“I had three beers, that’s all. Maybe four. I know what I’m saying, Tay. I mean every word of it.”

“And if you wake up in the morning and realize you don’t mean it? That you regret it?”

“I won’t,” Zac replied, placing his hand over Taylor’s. “It’s taken me too long to work up the nerve to admit it. I can’t go back now. I won’t.”

“I don’t think there’s any going back for either of us now,” Taylor replied.

“Good,” Zac said, moving his hand to Taylor’s cheek. 

He leaned in, intending to kiss his brother, but missed the mark a bit. His lips landed on Taylor’s jaw instead, and it made Taylor let out a ragged gasp. Zac rested his head in the crook of Taylor’s neck, breathing in his scent. Taylor didn’t smell like any other guy Zac knew, although Zac had to admit he hadn’t spent a lot of time smelling the rest of them. He smelled like some flowers Zac couldn’t identify and vanilla. He had always used vanilla scented body wash, Zac remembered. When he had curled up in Taylor’s bed as a kid, the sheets always smelled like vanilla. As cheesy as the thought was, that scent was home for Zac.

“Zac,” Taylor breathed out, his fingers hooked in Zac’s belt loop like it was an anchor. “I feel like a broken record, but you know there’s really no going back now. We can’t keep going back and forth, and if we… if we take this step, I won’t go back. I can’t.”

“Go back to what?” Zac asked, the words muffled by Taylor’s hot flesh. “Being just brothers? Pretending I’m not in love with you?”

Taylor’s body stiffened at Zac’s words, and Zac held his breath. He had certainly gone too far this time. It was one thing, he realized, to admit a sexual interest in someone he had fooled around with before realizing who that someone was. It was another entirely to suggest that love was possible between two brothers.

“I’m sorry, Tay, I’ll... I…” Zac stuttered out, pulling away from Taylor quickly. 

He stumbled out of the room before Taylor could say anything else. Whatever Taylor was thinking, Zac was sure he didn’t want to know. He made it all the way to his bedroom before he realized Taylor was hot on his heels, flinging the door open behind him. 

“Will you stop fucking running away from me?” Taylor screeched. “God, do you think I’m as scared of your emotions as you are? Is that it? Have you ever stopped to think I’m feeling the exact same things? God knows I have more reason to be scared.”

“Why?” Zac asked. “Why would—why would you be scared?”

“Think about it, Zac,” Taylor replied. “I’m your _older_ brother, Zac. I’m supposed to be a good influence. I’m not supposed to fall in love with you. It’s not like anyone could have known or predicted, but I just keep thinking—they told me, they said they couldn’t risk my influence on you, and I just—I—”

Taylor’s voice caught in his throat, and without him saying their names, Zac knew he was talking about their parents. Anger bubbled up inside of him. As if everything else they had done wasn’t bad enough, how could they have actually implied that Taylor might be a child molester, too? Of course it had stuck with him, as untrue as it was, and of course it would be at the front of Taylor’s mind now that it had, in a way, come true.

But it hadn’t. Zac hadn’t been coerced or forced, and Zac was an adult capable of making his own choices. Taylor had to see that.

Zac stepped forward and grasped Taylor’s shoulders forcefully, pushing him back against the bedroom door, which slammed with enough force to make the two of them jump. After a little nervous laughter, Zac said, “I love you, Tay. And yeah, maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe _we_ shouldn’t. But it’s too late to change that; you said it yourself. We can’t go back. But this is… I know my own mind, Tay. This is my choice, and I’m tired of fighting it and pretending it’s not what I want.”

“Me too,” Taylor replied, his lips slowly turning up in a smile. “I love you too, Zac, I swear. I always have, even before it became this kind of love. All I ever wanted was for your life to be easier than mine and for you to be happy.”

“I’ll be happy,” Zac replied, “if you’d shut up and kiss me.”

Taylor let out a hiccup-y little laugh, then leaned in and pressed his lips to Zac’s. That one little motion seemed to open the floodgates, and Zac decided he didn’t care how needy or desperate he looked. He grasped Taylor’s hips and pulled him backward, never breaking their kiss except to laugh when they fell into an awkward heap on the bed.

Zac rolled them over so that he was on top, but Taylor obviously had different plans and soon Zac found himself pinned against the mattress. He was fine with that, really, even if it didn’t leave him many options but to wriggle around and paw at Taylor’s clothes until Taylor got the hint and began to undress. It wasn’t much of a strip tease, something Zac was sure Taylor would have excelled at, but under the circumstances he couldn’t complain.

It wasn’t as though Zac were all that skilled in bed, anyway, a fact he was sure Taylor was figuring it. He struggled to pull down his own pants and free himself from his shirt, feeling like a total idiot. A part of him wondered what Taylor saw in him at all, at least on a purely physical level, but this wasn’t the time to worry about that. Not when Taylor’s practically throbbing erection was right there in front him, obvious proof that Taylor _did_ find him attractive.

Without really thinking about what he was doing, Zac wrapped his hand around said erection and nearly pulled Taylor on top of him with his tight grip. Taylor caught himself at the last second, propping himself up on his elbows while Zac finally found the presence of mind to move his hand. It was almost too obscene to think, but Zac had to figure that given that they were brothers, Taylor’s preferences were probably similar to his own. With that in mind, he adjusted his motions, his grasp still firm but his rhythm slow and steady. Judging by the whimpers and whines coming from his mouth, Taylor liked it just fine. That gave Zac’s confidence such a boost that he couldn’t resist smiling, which caused Taylor to look at him a bit quizzically.

“What is it?” Taylor asked, his voice low and breathy.

Zac shook his head. “Nothing. Just… happy. Glad I’m not, you know, horrible at this.”

“Surely you’ve had plenty of practice at _this_ ,” Taylor replied.

Zac blushed, and Taylor just giggled. He flashed Zac a surprisingly innocent looking smile before ducking his head downward and planting a less gentle kiss to his neck. His lips quickly moved downward, and Zac wanted to protest that Taylor had done this for him enough, that it ought to be his turn by now, but he found himself incapable of speech once Taylor’s lips found their ultimate target.

In any case, if he were honest with himself, Zac wouldn’t have minded at all if he never did anything else for the rest of his life except watch Taylor suck his dick. He didn’t really care how pathetic or depraved that made him; it was a simple fact that he couldn’t ignore. His brother seemed to be made for sucking dick. For one thing, he looked like a porn star, his pink cheeks all hollow and his long bangs tickling Zac’s thighs. For another, he was about to get Zac off in record time. 

Zac probably should have been ashamed of that, too, but he was far past the point of shame, he decided. Instead, he just buried his hand in Taylor’s hair as a sort of warning and wrapped his left leg around Taylor’s waist as if to anchor himself. 

In spite of said anchor, he still felt himself being pulled under all too soon, his entire body seeming to vibrate as his orgasm overtook him and filled Taylor’s mouth. Taylor, true to form, swallowed every drop of it. 

_Almost_ every drop, Zac observed, as he watched Taylor crawl back up his body. One stray droplet clung to Taylor’s bottom lip, and before he could think better of it, Zac darted his tongue out to lick it up. It was tangy and not altogether unpleasant, if Zac ignored the fact that it was his. It only made him want to taste Taylor’s even more, to see how similar they were in that respect, too.

With that thought in mind, he trailed his hand between their bodies again, taking his time to feel the faint hint of stubble re-growing on Taylor’s chest and the closely groomed hair that lay just above his final destination. Said final destination was throbbing intently now, and that made Zac smile against Taylor’s lips. He wrapped his hand firmly around Taylor’s cock and stroked quickly this time, not sure he had the patience to draw things out much longer. He wanted to have the same effect on Taylor as Taylor had on him. He needed it, needed to know that his brother was as completely undone as he was.

He gave a flick of his wrist and regretted it, as Taylor clamped down on his tongue suddenly. 

“Shit,” Taylor breathed out, pulling back a bit. “Sorry. I just—that. Whatever that was, that was good. Really good.”

“Yeah?” Zac asked, needing to hear it for himself even if Taylor’s reaction had confirmed it.

“Yeah,” Taylor replied. “So, so good. So close. So fucking close, baby.”

The pet name nearly set Zac over the edge again, and gave him the push he needed to get Taylor the rest of the way, too. With a few more practiced flicks of his wrist, he felt the tell-tale pulsing of Taylor’s cock. Even though this was all still so new, he knew. Sure enough, only seconds later, a tremor went through Taylor’s body and a steady stream of warm come filled Zac’s hand. 

He kept us his rhythm for a moment, effectively milking Taylor for all he was worth. Carefully, so as not to make a bigger mess than necessary, Zac lifted his hand to his mouth and let a few drops fall onto his waiting tongue. Tangy, but almost sweet--like Taylor, Zac supposed. He lapped it up eagerly, aware of the way Taylor groaned at the sight. 

“I did say ‘every possible way’,” Zac said, grinning sheepishly up at his brother, who looked on the verge of a second orgasm.

“God,” Taylor breathed out. “If I didn’t already love you…”

That broke the tension of the moment, both of them dissolving into a fit of giggles. How they could go from _that_ to a laughing fit seemed impossible, but then nearly everything about their relationship was. Zac opened his mouth to say something of the sort, but found he had no sufficient words. Instead, he pressed a soft kiss to Taylor’s cheek and smiled.

“Love you,” Taylor said softly, running a hand through Zac’s hair. “God help me, but I do.”

Zac smiled up at him. “Love you, too.”


	20. Here and Now

Zac woke up alone the next morning, which was nothing new for him; it had been his new norm since the split from Carly, at least. It felt different, though, and he knew that was all because of what had happened the night before. A tiny voice at the back of his head wanted to panic, especially because Taylor had seemingly abandoned him again. He couldn’t find the energy, though, or the point. The truth was finally out there and Taylor hadn’t run far, if the smell of coffee brewing was anything to judge by. Things were going to be okay, Zac decided. Things could only get better from there.

When Zac finally found the strength to roll over and pick up his cell phone, he realized his first class of the day had started over an hour ago. A wave of nausea rolled through him; skipping class was the very last thing he needed to do with his advisor already breathing down his neck. But it was too late to do anything about it. His afternoon class had been canceled, he remembered, so his day was effectively over before it had even started.

With a groan, he pulled himself out of bed and walked to the kitchen. Taylor was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in his hand and nothing on but his boxers. If Zac had even dreamed of being upset that Taylor didn’t wake him up, all of that vanished at the sight of him.

“Hey, umm,” Taylor said, glancing up at Zac. His cheeks turned bright pink. “Sorry, I know I should have woken you up for class, but I’m off work today and… well, you looked pretty adorable. I just couldn’t disturb you.”

“I guess I can forgive you for that,” Zac mumbled. He felt awkward and unprepared for this, even though he knew he was done running. That didn’t mean he knew how to deal with his brother calling him things like _adorable_. He was so flustered that he didn’t even notice Taylor had stood up until suddenly he was right there in front of him, pushing back a stray lock of Zac’s hair.

“You’re not going to pretend like that didn’t happen, are you?” Taylor asked. “I’m sorry, I just… I need to know that you’re okay with what we did.”

“I am,” Zac replied. The genuine fear that he saw in Taylor’s eyes gave him pause. This went deeper than just Zac’s tendency to run, he realized. He wondered if Taylor was always like this, always so afraid of overstepping someone’s boundaries. He didn’t dare ask, because he knew where the blame for Taylor’s insecurities laid, and their parents were the last thing Zac wanted to think about right then. Zac shook his head, then forced himself to look Taylor in the eyes. “Yeah, I was scared. I’m still scared, Tay. And that’s not going to change, at least not right away. But if you ever do anything to make me uncomfortable, I promise I’ll let you know. I won’t just tuck tail and run again.”

“Good,” Taylor replied, letting out a nervous little laugh. “It’s just, you know, everything else aside… I know you haven’t been with a man before. You’re practically a virgin, and I just don’t want to cross any lines or move too fast or—”

“What if I want you to move faster?” Zac blurted out. He knew exactly what his words implied, but he hadn’t realized he was going to say them until he already had.

Taylor stared blankly at Zac for a moment, and Zac could practically see the gears turning in his head, various emotions passing over his face before he seemed to settle on acceptance that Zac really did know his own mind. To further prove that he did, Zac pulled Taylor to him and crushed their lips together. He wasted no time parting Taylor’s lips with his tongue, and although Taylor let out a surprised whimper, he responded in kind, their tongues moving together in perfect sync.

“Zac,” Taylor said breathlessly, pressing a hand to Zac’s chest as he pulled away. “Are we—really? Now?”

“Now,” Zac replied. He grasped Taylor’s hips and pressed their bodies together; only the thin cotton of their boxers separated their erections, and Zac was acutely aware that Taylor was just as hard as he was. 

That motion seemed to break down Taylor’s floodgates. He pressed his lips to Zac’s, buried his hands in his hair, and began to walk him backward toward the hallway. In their haste, they stumbled and fell into the living room floor, but neither seemed to mind. Zac knew he didn’t; he tightened his grip on Taylor’s hips to let him know that he was perfectly content to stay right there in the floor, pinned beneath Taylor.

“Well, I suppose this will work,” Taylor said, chuckling softly against Zac’s neck. It made Zac shiver. Taylor trailed a finger down Zac’s side, then ran it under the waistband of his boxers. 

Zac nodded. This would definitely work. He ran his own hands under the waistband of Taylor’s boxers, shamelessly cupping Taylor’s ass cheeks in his hands before shoving the boxers down. Taylor took the hint and pulled back a bit to remove them, and Zac took the opportunity to wiggle out of his own boxers as well. Zac cried out when he felt Taylor’s naked flesh against his. His face turned bright red; hadn’t it only been the previous night when he had last felt Taylor so close to him? Yet he didn’t think he would ever get enough of being with Taylor.

Taylor rolled his hips against Zac’s, and Zac cried out again. He wasn’t sure he was going to survive this, but there was no way in hell he could ask Taylor to stop. Instead, he just dug his fingernails into Taylor’s hips and watched curiously as Taylor trailed a finger up and down his chest, then traced a line along his jaw. Finally, Taylor brought the finger to rest against Zac’s lips, and it only took Zac a moment to get the hint. He parted his lips and circled his tongue around Taylor’s finger, sucking it like he imagined he would suck Taylor’s dick. Taylor let out a soft moan that made Zac think he was imagining the very same thing.

He pulled his finger from Zac’s mouth with a soft pop. Zac watched with wide eyes as Taylor’s hand went behind his legs, and he didn’t need to see to know what Taylor was doing. The way his eyelashes fluttered and his mouth hung open said it all, and Zac could only hope he would someday learn how to make Taylor feel that good. 

“Are you ready?” Taylor asked, and the absurdity of the question, given what Taylor was doing to himself, almost made Zac laugh again. 

“Yeah,” Zac managed to breathe out.

Taylor wrapped his fingers around the base of Zac’s dick, holding him firmly rather than stroking. He was already as hard as he could possibly get, Zac was pretty sure, and he soon realized Taylor was holding him in position. Taylor shifted his own position a bit, his other hand planted firmly on Zac’s chest, before Zac finally felt him. He was hot and tight, pressed right up against Zac’s dick, and Zac had no clue how this was really going to work. Surely he was still too tight, surely this was going to hurt and the last thing Zac wanted to do was hurt Taylor. He opened his mouth to tell Taylor to stop, but no words came out.

“Oh, god, Zac," Taylor said, the words coming out in a strangled moan as he began to lower himself down.

He had lowered himself only an inch or so onto Zac’s dick, and already Zac was seeing stars. He gasped out when Taylor lifted himself up, but only seconds later, he sunk back down again. Each time, he went a little bit lower, taking an inch or so more with every roll of his hips until his ass was pressed fully against Zac’s thighs, every single centimeter of Zac’s dick enveloped in his warmth.

This was it, Zac thought to himself. This was how he was going to die, dick buried in his brother’s ass, and he didn’t even mind at all. He couldn’t think of a single better way to go.

He tightened his grip on Taylor’s hips and began to roll his own upward, doing his best to match Taylor’s  
rhythm. Their bodies easily moved in sync together, further proving to Zac that what they were doing wasn’t wrong at all. This was where the two of them were meant to be. Every movement was perfect, every little gasp and moan from Taylor bringing Zac closer and closer to the edge.

“Tay, I—I’m,” Zac gasped out, unable to form any more coherent words than that.

“I know,” Taylor replied, grasping one of Zac’s hands and wrapping it around his own throbbing cock. “Me too.”

Zac took the hint, and began to stroke Taylor, although his hand was shaking so much that he couldn’t imagine it felt very good at all. Still, Taylor moaned loudly, his body falling forward until his hair was brushing against Zac’s forehead. His arms were shaking, hands pressed into the carpet on either side of Zac’s head. He gave one last loud moan and Zac felt a warm stream of come land on his own stomach. 

That was all it took. Zac dug his fingernails into Taylor’s hips and held him in place, letting out a low moan that surprised even him. His vision blurred, three or four images of Taylor swirling around in front of him, and then it was all red. 

When he came back into himself, Taylor had pulled himself free and was sprawled across the carpet next to him. Both of their bodies were a sticky mess, but Zac didn’t care if Taylor didn’t. Judging by the smile on Taylor’s face, he didn’t.

“Wow,” Zac finally managed to breathe out. “That was… it…”

Taylor laughed softly. “Yeah, it was. I hope… it was okay for you.”

“Okay doesn’t even begin to describe it.” Zac absent-mindedly ran a hand down his stomach, landing in a puddle of come. He lifted his hand and made a face. When Taylor laughed, Zac stretched his hand out and smeared the sticky stuff on Taylor’s cheek.

“Thanks,” Taylor replied plainly, sticking his tongue out to lick up a drop or two, seemingly unfazed. After a moment, though, his expression turned more serious. “But, you know, this is part of why condoms are a good idea.”

“And what’s the other part?” Zac asked, his mind still too much of a blur to realize Taylor’s implication.

“Well, I know I’m clean,” Taylor replied. “And I’m not setting a good example here, because I should have asked if you were.”

“I’ve only ever…” Zac trailed off, his face heating up. “I mean, there was just Carly, and Hannah in high school. I don’t know if you remember her; we were still just friends when…. Well, that’s all. Just the two of them.”

“I didn’t know that,” Taylor said softly, running a hand across Zac’s cheek. “There’s still so much we don’t know about each other, isn’t there?”

“I guess so,” Zac replied. He didn’t want to think about how many men Taylor had slept with. He didn’t want to know at all. Clearly Taylor was far more experienced than he was, and that was all that Zac needed to know. 

“But that’s okay,” Taylor said, brushing back a piece of Zac’s hair. “We’ve got time. Starting with the rest of today. I don’t know about you, but I’m perfectly content to just lay here and talk all afternoon.”

“That sounds good to me,” Zac replied. He reached out a finger and swiped up a drop of come from Taylor’s rosy cheek, then ran his finger along his bottom lip. “But maybe we should clean up this mess first.”

“Shower?” Taylor suggested, his eyes sparkling as his tongue darted out to lick Zac’s finger. 

“Why do I have a feeling we’ll only get dirtier in the shower?”

Taylor just laughed and stood up, ignoring the question altogether. As Zac watched him walk away, his ass swaying more than a little suggestively, he decided that Taylor was definitely going to be the death of him. And he didn’t mind at all.


	21. Together

Zac’s mind was racing at the thought of what he had Taylor had done. He snapped out of his daze when the bathroom door slammed, and he remembered the offer Taylor had made to him. How could he resist another opportunity to be so close to his brother? With that thought in mind, Zac scrambled to his unsteady feet. 

The door was, of course, unlocked. Zac groaned as he pushed it open and saw Taylor bent over in search of a clean towel. A perverse urge to rush up behind him nearly overtook Zac, but he thought better of it. This thing between them was too new, too fragile, to risk any sudden move like that. Instead, he simply stood in the doorway and watched Taylor preparing for a shower like it was the most engrossing thing he had ever seen.

“Are you joining me?” Taylor asked, not even bothering to glance behind him as he put two towels on the rack and stepped into the shower.

“Yeah,” Zac breathed out. 

He took a few quick steps into the room, closing the distance between himself and Taylor. Through the shower door, which Taylor had left open just a crack, he could see his brother bent over, adjusting the faucet. Taylor made a soft, satisfied sound as he flipped the shower head on, then spun around and gave Zac a big smile that made Zac weak in the knees. He had to wonder if Taylor really knew the full extent of the effect he had on him and whether or not he took advantage of that, but all the same, he didn’t dare tell him. Taylor wasn’t that manipulative, Zac decided. 

“Come here,” Taylor said softly, holding out his arms. 

Zac embraced Taylor, not caring about the water enveloping them as they kissed. He could drown in the shower’s spray and he wouldn’t even care, as long as Taylor was right there with him. His lungs, however, had other ideas. Zac coughed and sputtered as he finally pulled back to catch his breath, and he couldn’t help laughing a bit in spite of it. 

“Let me,” Zac stuttered out. “Let me, let me do this for you. Please.”

Taylor nodded, as though he perfectly understood Zac’s stuttered words, and perhaps he did. Zac placed his hands firmly on Taylor’s shoulders and maneuvered him out of the shower’s spray, his back pressed against the tile. Zac latched onto Taylor’s neck, kissing and biting the tender flesh there. That was safe enough territory to start out with, he thought, but he knew he couldn’t stay there forever.

He slithered his hand between their bodies and was pleased to find that Taylor was already half hard, his dick pulsing ever so slightly as Zac wrapped his fingers around it and began to pump. As he did so, he lowered his head and trailed kisses down Taylor’s chest, taking first one then the other nipple into his mouth. Still, he didn’t allow himself to linger long. If he did, he might lose his nerve.

Zac fell to his knees with a soft thud and tried not to think of the bruises that would probably leave him with. All that mattered in that moment was right in front of his face, practically begging to be touched, tasted, anything. Zac found himself all too willing to comply, his mouth actually watering as he closed the distance between himself and Taylor’s dick. His mouth closed around it perfectly, even though his eyes had fallen shut, and Taylor’s moan reverberated through his body. 

“Oh, god, Zac,” Taylor groaned, his hand coming to rest so gently in Zac’s hair that he almost didn’t feel it at all. “You know you don’t have anything to prove to me, but—god.”

Zac felt himself blushing at Taylor’s attempt at a compliment. He found a rhythm easily enough, one hand reaching up to cover the length his mouth couldn’t and the other digging into Taylor’s thigh to brace himself. There was an odd mixture of power and vulnerability in this, being connected to Taylor’s body in this way, and Zac found that it really turned him on. His free hand soon darted between his own legs, stroking his aching dick to the same rhythm that his mouth was moving.

It all seemed to take more coordination than Zac was sure he had, but at the same time, it just felt natural. It felt like second nature to him. All too soon, no doubt because both boys were still so over-stimulated, Zac felt Taylor beginning to buck against him and moan loudly. A familiar pressure was building up between his own legs, and he stroked himself faster. His orgasm came on fast and hard, yet somehow he didn’t lose his rhythm.

“Zac, I’m—” Taylor said, the words getting lost in a whimper. “If you don’t want to swallow, you should probably move. Soon.”

In truth, Zac didn’t know whether he wanted to swallow or not. What he did know was that he wanted to be as close to Taylor as humanly possible, and if that meant swallowing everything he had to offer, then that was simply what it meant. He braced himself against the shower wall and tried to relax as Taylor’s hips bucked against his face. A warm, salty stream filled his mouth as Taylor moaned loudly, and Zac struggled to swallow it all. 

Eventually, he was forced to pull back a bit, sputtering. He felt his face heating up and didn’t dare look at Taylor.

“Hey,” Taylor breathed out. “That’s okay. You did… you did really good, Zac. That was so good, I promise.”

Taylor offered Zac a hand, and Zac took it, pulling himself shakily to his feet. Not knowing what else to do, he laughed nervously. The laughter proved infectious, Taylor joining in until the two were holding each other up in the throes of it. Zac didn’t even care that he still had his own come on his hands and Taylor’s dripping down his chin. 

“Well,” Zac finally managed to say. “I think we definitely got dirtier—at least one of us, anyway.”

Taylor snickered. “Come here, let me clean you up.”

He pulled Zac under the shower’s spray, letting it do most of the work for him. Zac could do little more than stand dumbly while Taylor lathered him up with his shampoo, his mind reeling at the realization that he would smell like Taylor now. There was something horribly codependent about the way he felt toward his older brother, he was sure, and letting him bathe him was only further proof of it. Ultimately, though, Zac decided that he didn’t care. If being with Taylor like this was what he needed to feel normal again, for the first time in eight years, then it was what he needed and he wasn’t going to question it.

Once Taylor had washed Zac clean, all evidence of their indiscretions gone, Zac fumbled to return the favor. His hands, which somehow painted intricate scenes, seemed huge and bumbling against Taylor’s body, but he did the best he could. Taylor’s soft, contented moans gave him some confidence, even though all of this was still entirely new territory.

Soon enough, the two were as clean as they were going to get. They had done little more than step out of the shower and wrap towels around their waists when, from the kitchen, Taylor’s cell phone began to ring. He placed a quick kiss to Zac’s cheek before rushing off to answer it.

Trying not to think much of that, Zac walked into the bedroom and rummaged through his dresser for something resembling clean clothing. He settled on pajama pants and an old t-shirt, figuring that he didn’t have any intentions of leaving the apartment for the rest of the day. He supposed he was taking what Melissa called a mental health day, something she insisted that he needed, even if it was nearly the end of the semester. 

His pajamas in place, he padded back to the kitchen, hoping Taylor was finished with his phone call.

“Yeah, no, that’s great,” Taylor said. “No, definitely. It’s short notice, but no, absolutely. Yeah, just email me the details. Great, thanks. Talk to you later.”

With only Taylor’s end of the conversation, Zac was perplexed, but it was clear that whatever the other person was saying made Taylor very happy. Zac felt himself growing irrationally jealous of that. Why couldn’t anyone else make Taylor happy? Shouldn’t he want that for him? Zac didn’t know what to think. 

“What was that all about?” he asked, perhaps a bit too quickly, after Taylor ended the call.

“I’ve got a gig,” Taylor replied, grinning from ear to ear. “There’s a fashion show at the mall next week, a pretty big one, and their makeup artist just backed out. Since I work there already, my name got thrown into the hat. It’s nothing major, but you never know what sort of people will show up for these things. It’s something to put on my resume, at least.”

“That does sound good,” Zac managed to mumble around the lump in his throat. “Are you still, umm, looking for other jobs?”

“Why would I have stopped?” Taylor asked, looking perplexed. “I mean, I had only just started. I really didn’t expect to find anything so soon.”

Zac shook his head. “Nevermind. You can do whatever you want to do.”

He turned to leave, but Taylor grabbed his hand and pulled him back. “Zac, don’t do this. Don’t run from any serious conversation between us. This thing isn’t going to work if we don’t talk.”

“It isn’t going to work if you move away to California, either,” Zac muttered.

“Is that what you’re upset about? What you were trying to ask?” Taylor asked, barely waiting for Zac to nod before stepping in closer and continuing. “I can’t say what the future holds, what might happen in my career, but I know that I don’t want to go anywhere without you. But I’m not going to sugarcoat it. If the perfect opportunity popped up, but I had to leave here… I would do my best to convince you to come with me.”

“And I would just have to drop everything here and follow you?” Zac asked, hoping his tone didn’t give away that he knew he would, in a heartbeat.

“What’s everything?” Taylor asked, motioning to the apartment around them. “A crappy apartment paid for by Mommy and Daddy, classes you don’t ever seem to want to attend and no plans at all for the future? What have you actually got to lose here, aside from the adoration of our wonderful parents? Who, by the way, I’m sure you haven’t informed about your new roommate.”

“Why would I tell them?” Zac asked, ignoring Taylor’s other accusations. If he dwelt too long on those thoughts, he didn’t think he would like the conclusions they brought him to.

“You wouldn’t; that’s my point,” Taylor replied. He heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m sorry. I hate that this good thing for me has brought all of this back up and ruined what was shaping up to be a really good afternoon. I’m not… I’m not trying to push you into anything, but you need to think about what you want for your future. That’s all.”

“I want you,” Zac replied meekly.

“That’s not enough,” Taylor said. “You need to want some things for yourself, too. I know what we have is… it’s intense, I know. But it can’t be all there is to you. Figure out what you want out of life, and I’ll be hoping like hell that it’s something that will allow us to stay together. I don’t want to give up on this, Zac. Not when we’ve just started—started over, really. I have to believe there’s a way for us to build a future together. I just have to.”

Zac nodded, his mouth dry. “I just—I don’t know, Taylor. I’ve never had to make those decisions for myself.”

“I know you haven’t,” Taylor replied softly. “I know. But I’m not going to make them for you. I can’t do that to you. I need to know that you’re making your own choices. I couldn’t… I couldn’t live with myself if I thought you were just going along with what you thought I wanted.”

“I’ll think about it,” Zac said. “I really will. I… maybe after this semester, I could take some time off. No summer classes. Give myself more time to think.” 

“I think that sounds like a great idea.” Taylor smiled. “It’ll give us more time together, too. Now, I’m going to go get out of this towel and into some actual clothes. Then, how about some lunch? Or an early dinner? I bought ingredients for a homemade pizza.”

“Yeah,” Zac choked out. “Yeah, that’ll be good. And I’m… I’m sorry I’m such a mess.”

Taylor shook his head. “No, Zac, no. This is all just new and confusing, I know. You think it’s any easier for me?”

“You make it seem easier,” Zac admitted.

“I’ve gotten good at acting, I guess,” Taylor said. “I had to be just to get through.”

“I’m sorry, Tay.” Zac lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Taylor, as though he could somehow protect him with that embrace. “I’m so sorry.”

Taylor pulled back slightly and looked Zac in the eyes. “No. No, none of that was your fault. And it’s all over now anyway. It’s over, and we’re going to make our way through things together now, okay?”

“Okay,” Zac replied, smiling. “Together. Okay.”

Zac wasn’t optimistic enough to believe that everything would be that easy, but for the moment, he was at least willing to pretend.


	22. Devious

The next day, Zac found himself actually happy to wake up and go to class. It wasn’t the classes themselves; he still found them tedious and pointless. But he felt a new sense of purpose. He still didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life, but he knew he had to try. He had to do something, at least attempt to make something of himself. 

Being with Taylor made Zac want to _live _again like he hadn’t in months. It cast a glow over the world and lifted the weight from Zac’s shoulders.__

__By the time he’d made it through his morning classes, Zac was surprised to find himself full of even more energy than he had begun the day with. He passed Melissa on his way to the student center, and waved cheerfully to her._ _

__“Hey, Zac,” she called back, pausing in her tracks to fall into step next to him. “If I didn’t know better, I would say you look like you got laid last night.”_ _

__“I want to be offended that you think you know better than that.”_ _

__Melissa laughed. “Well, I feel like you might have mentioned it if things were progressing with that person you mentioned. And you don’t seem like the sleazy one night stand type, so…”_ _

__Zac felt himself blushing and glanced away. He wanted to be honest with Melissa, but he knew that he couldn’t. If he told her even the barest details, she would surely want to know more. Even Melissa, as sweet and quirky as she was, couldn’t possibly understand that Zac was sleeping with his own brother._ _

__“I’m sorry, Zac.” Melissa shook her head. “You don’t have to tell me anything. I shouldn’t pry.”_ _

__“No, it’s fine, I just—” Zac sighed. “I’m still not really… I mean, it’s difficult to talk about. But I don’t want anything to bring me down today. Today is a really, really good day.”_ _

__“And why is that?” Melissa asked, smirking as though she already knew the answer._ _

__Zac felt his blush deepen. “Well, let’s just say that your suspicion might not have been so far off the mark.”_ _

__“I want you to know it’s taking all of my self control not to ask for details right now,” Melissa replied._ _

__“You should know I don’t kiss and tell,” Zac replied teasingly, then took her arm. “Come on, let’s get some lunch.”_ _

__Melissa grinned. “Sure, but do you mind if we swing by the campus post office first? I’m waiting for a very important letter.”_ _

__“Okay,” Zac replied._ _

__He let Melissa practically drag him into the post office, where she had to stand on her tiptoes to open her box on the top row. He would have offered to help, but it amused him too much to watch, especially when Melissa turned to scowl at him, a fistful of envelopes in her hand._ _

__She riffled through them quickly, pausing on one with a slightly confused expression on her face. “Oh, looks like this one is for you. That’s strange.”_ _

__“It is,” Zac replied, taking the envelope from her hand. “Especially considering I don’t have a box here or even live on campus at all.”_ _

__“Very, very strange,” Melissa agreed, her expression turning from confusion to amusement._ _

__Zac eyed Melissa as he tore into the envelope, which did in fact bear his name on the front. It made absolutely no sense, but he couldn’t deny that he was curious. When he saw the museum letterhead at the top, his confusion only grew. The name of it sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it… at least, not until he had scanned the page._ _

__“Melly,” Zac said. “What the hell is this?”_ _

__Melissa leaned over to look at the page Zac held out in front of him. “Oh, well, it looks like you won some sort of contest. Your art is going to be on exhibit. Very cool.”_ _

__“Very cool, yeah,” Zac replied. “Just one problem. I didn’t enter this contest. And since this came to your box, I have to wonder…”_ _

__She gave him a sheepish grin. “Okay, so I _may_ have something to do with this. Just a little bit. But your brother helped. It was really all his idea, in fact. He just needed someone on campus to help get copies of your paintings.”_ _

__“So you _both_ went behind my back on this.”_ _

__“That is technically true,” she said. With a frown, she asked, “You’re not angry, are you? Taylor just—we just—thought this would be a good opportunity for you. And we didn’t think you would do it on your own. You never give yourself enough credit.”_ _

__“I feel like I should really be upset about this,” Zac replied._ _

__“But are you?” Melissa asked, looking genuinely concerned._ _

__Zac sighed. He wanted to be. He really did. It was, after all, a betrayal of sorts. They had lied to him, at least by omission, gone behind his back… and for what? For something that was, ultimately, good._ _

__“No,” he finally replied. “I’m not mad. I told you; I don’t want to be in a bad mood today. Not after—well, you know.”_ _

__“After your little hookup with this mysterious person you don’t want to tell me about.”_ _

__“Yeah. That.” Zac scrunched the letter up and stuffed it in his backpack. “I do have one question, though. How did you and Tay end up working together on this?”_ _

__“Well, the thing is, I already knew him. Kind of. I mean, I buy all my makeup at his Sephora, and he taught me everything I know about sculpting my eyebrows. Seriously, he’s got a gift. But umm, anyway, it’s not like he knows any of your other friends. So I guess when he saw that entry form—you must have dropped it out of your backpack or something—he really didn’t know anyone else who could help. And he may have peeked at your phone when you were in the shower to get my number.”_ _

__“I didn’t realize you knew him,” Zac replied dumbly._ _

__Melissa shrugged. “It’s not like we’re best friends or anything. God, I wish I had known he was your brother. I mean, think about it. I knew both of you, at least as acquaintances, and had no idea. I don’t know, maybe I felt like helping him with this was somehow making up for the fact that I could have fixed this for both of you so much sooner if I had just known.”_ _

__“But you couldn’t have known. I mean, what are the chances?”_ _

__“I guess you’re right,” Melissa replied._ _

__“I’m entitled to be once in my life,” Zac shot back, giving her a smirk. “Come on, I’m starving. And also a little disturbed about how devious the two of you are, but I can worry about that after lunch.”_ _

__Melissa just laughed, and offered to go find a table while Zac grabbed burritos for the two of them. She was still rattling off her needlessly complicated order as Zac found a spot in line, and he was sure he would fuck it up. He was also sure that Melly would forgive him if he did._ _

__A few minutes later, he found his way the high top table where she had perched herself, and carefully sat their tray on the table’s top._ _

__“There,” he said. “Black bean and extra quac for your highness.”_ _

__“Thanks.” Melissa gave him a big grin. “You know, for what it’s worth, I am kinda sorry that we went behind your back. But it was only to try to help you. I hope you get that we really did mean well.”_ _

__“I do get that,” Zac replied. “And it is good. It’s just a little overwhelming, too. I mean, I’m studying art history because I never really thought I was good enough to _be_ an artist.”_ _

__Melissa gave him a blank stare. “I don’t believe that for a second. You’ve got eyes; you can see what your paintings look like.”_ _

__“Okay, well, I mean, they are pretty good. I guess. But I mean—amateur good. It takes something really, really good to actually make a living as an artist. And I know I’m not _that_ good.”_ _

__“I’m not going to argue with you,” Melissa replied. “I just don’t think that’s what you really think. I think it’s what you’ve been told—that being an artist isn’t a viable career.”_ _

__“Maybe it is,” Zac admitted. And it was—it was exactly what Carly and his parents had repeatedly told him. They still couldn’t stop him from studying art, because the truth was there was nothing else he was good at, but they had been able to coerce him into a degree that would supposedly lead to better career prospects. Zac still had his doubts, but he had never voiced them._ _

__“So,” Melissa said, something of a smirk on his lips. “There’s a big party for the showcase opening. Will you take your new girlfriend as your date?”_ _

__“I don’t have—I mean, she’s not… we’re not putting a label on it right now.” Zac was sure that in the larger scheme of things, Taylor would forgive him for calling him a _she_._ _

__“Well, you should still bring this mystery girl. I’d really like to meet her. You know, threaten to break her legs if she breaks your heart. That sort of thing.”_ _

__Zac gave a nervous giggle. “Actually, I was thinking—I mean, since the two of you are responsible and everything, I should take you. And, and Taylor.”_ _

__“Aww, that’s really sweet. I’d be honored.” Melissa gave him a grin, quickly followed by a serious look. “But I _will_ meet this special someone of yours eventually. You can’t hide her forever.”_ _

__“No, I don’t suppose I can,” Zac replied, laughing just a little at how ridiculous it all was. If only Melissa realized that she already knew Zac’s mysterious _girlfriend_._ _

__“Well, look at these two lovebirds,” Shaun said, having apparently materialized out of thin air right next to their table._ _

__Zac didn’t even try to fight the urge to roll his eyes._ _

__“So what’s up?” Shaun asked, smiling obliviously at the two of them. “I feel like I haven’t seen you around campus in forever. Not you, Mel. You’re here more than I am.”_ _

__“I’ve been keeping to myself a bit this semester, I guess,” Zac mumbled._ _

__“Well, he won’t be in two weeks,” Melissa cut in, a grin on her face that seemed to suggest she knew she was saying too much but couldn’t stop herself. “Zac’s got his first gallery opening then. You should come support him!”_ _

__“Hell yeah, wouldn’t miss it,” Shaun replied, clapping Zac on the back so hard that Zac nearly fell out of his chair. “That’s great, dude. Text me the details and I’ll be there. Drew, too.”_ _

__Zac nodded. “Yeah, alright. I’ll text you later. I just found out myself, so I don’t really know all the details.”_ _

__“Well, just let us know and we’ll be there with fucking bells on.” Shaun actually gave Melissa a wink at that, and Zac admired her self-restraint in not even reacting at all. “But hey, I’ve gotta run. Freshman orientation; fun stuff.”_ _

__“Fun stuff,” Zac echoed, his tone just sarcastic enough to earn him a kick in the shin from Melissa. He waited until Shaun was out of earshot before exclaiming, “Oww! What was that for? And what did you have to tell him about the gallery thing for?”_ _

__“Why not?” Melissa shrugged. “Don’t you want all of your friends there to support you?”_ _

__Zac gave a shrug of his own. “I don’t know; I just don’t like to make a big deal out of myself. I fade into the background; it’s what I’ve always done.”_ _

__“Well, maybe it’s time for you to shine,” Melissa replied. “What could it hurt?”_ _

__“I don’t know if shining is really my thing,” Zac said. “That’s more Taylor’s territory, really. I think he got all the shiny genes.”_ _

__“Oh, I’d say you two are more alike than you know.” Melissa smiled._ _

__Zac snorted. “Well, you may be right about that, at least.”_ _

__He could only hope Melissa didn’t figure out just how right she was._ _


	23. Love and Hate

Zac made it through the rest of his day on autopilot, trying not to overthink the gallery exhibit thing and all the ways it could possible go badly for him. In spite of his trepidation, he _was_ happy. This was a sort of validation that he realized he needed; maybe he was capable of doing this for a living after all. At the very least, it was proof that he wasn’t as horrible an artist as he’d begun to believe.

When he finally made it home and stepped through the apartment door, he was greeted by the comforting smell of spaghetti. Sure enough, Taylor was—as had become his usual position, it seemed—leaning over the stove, stirring a pot of bubbling sauce.

“Hey,” Zac said, fumbling around in his bag for the letter. He held it up and gave Taylor a look he hoped was neutral enough not to give everything away.

“Hey, yourself,” Taylor said, setting down his spoon and stepping close enough to read the letter. His eyes brightened as he scanned the page. “Zac, oh my gosh! That’s great. I knew you’d win, though.”

“Of course you did. You and Melly are the ones who signed me up for it.”

Taylor blushed a bit, his expression turning sheepish. “We did, yeah. And I know we should have told you, but you can’t honestly tell me you would have been okay with it.”

“No, I probably wouldn’t have,” Zac replied. “And under other circumstances, I’d say that was proof that you did the wrong thing. But this? I… I don’t know, I think I needed it, but I wouldn’t have been able to come to that conclusion on my own. So you get a pass—this time.”

“I’ll take it,” Taylor said, smiling from ear to ear as he leaned in to give Zac a quick kiss. “Dinner’s almost done, if you’re ready to eat.”

Zac pulled back slightly. “Actually, I was thinking, umm, I should give Mom and Dad a call. I haven’t talked to them in a while, and I guess I should give them the good news—I mean, I won’t mention you or anything.”

“No, that’s fine,” Taylor replied, nodding. “I didn’t think you would. But of course, you’re proud of this, and you want to share it with them. It’s fine. I’ll just, umm, finish up the garlic bread while you do that.”

Zac gave Taylor a nod of his own, but didn’t speak. Of course Taylor wouldn’t like that idea, but Zac hadn’t and couldn’t just cut ties with the family who had never really mistreated him. It wasn’t that simple, regardless of what they had said and done to Taylor. 

He closed the door to his bedroom before fishing out his cell phone and dialing their home number. After just a few rings, his mother’s always comforting voice came on the line.

“Hello? Zac?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he replied. “I was just, umm, checking in.”

“We were starting to get worried about you,” she said, a hint of a chuckle in her voice assuring Zac that it was mostly a joke.

“It’s been a pretty busy semester,” Zac replied. 

“But things are going well?”

“I think so, yeah.” Zac cleared his throat. “I was actually calling because—well, I got accepted into this art gallery opening thing. They’ll have five of my paintings on display.”

There was an awkward pause on the line. “But surely that’s not something required for your degree? I mean, this is something extracurricular? I just don’t want it taking attention away from your classes, Zachary.”

“It’s not, Mom,” he replied. “I’m always painting anyway; you know that. It didn’t take any extra work just to enter them in a contest.”

“So you’re still on track? I know breaking up with Carly has been rough on you, but you need to focus on your degree. Are you still planning on taking summer classes?”

“I haven’t signed up yet,” Zac admitted. He didn’t bother mentioning that the deadline to do so was looming dangerously close. That was sure to end badly for him.

“Why not?” There was just a hint of accusation in her tone, mostly covered up by curiosity.

“I just think—I mean, there’s not a deadline here. I’ve saved up money from my summer jobs and my scholarship is decent; there’s no rush to get the degree done that quickly. And I think, I don’t know, it might help to take a little break. Avoid burning out.”

His mother was silent for a moment. “Okay, well, if you think that’s best. I do worry about you; I know this semester has been tough. Have you talked to Carly lately?”

“No, I—why would I talk to her? I don’t think there’s much left to say. She cheated, Mom. I’m not getting back together with her.”

“She just seemed like such a nice girl.” She sighed. “It’s hard to believe she would do something like that. I always thought she was so good for you.”

“Yeah, well, a lot of us seem like things we aren’t,” Zac mumbled. “Look, I need to go eat dinner and do some edits on the bibliography I have due next week.”

The bibliography bit wasn’t entirely a lie; it was only that Zac had just remembered that he probably needed to work on it before the due date went whizzing by. It was certainly a good excuse to get out of an increasingly awkward conversation, he reasoned.

“Okay, dear,” his mom replied. “Just keep us in the loop about your plans.”

“Will do. Talk to you later, Mom.”

“Bye, Zac. Love you.”

Zac’s mouth went dry, but the line clicked dead before he had a chance to force himself to respond. 

It hadn’t, all things considered, been that awful of a phone call. He could hear his mom’s judgment, though, even when it wasn’t spoken aloud. He knew there was a line he was supposed to walk, and if he stepped off of it, he would only face more of that judgment. 

It occurred to him that he was lucky he had followed his parent’s plan for him so closely up to this point. He knew what the result was if he didn’t. And that result was waiting for him in the kitchen, somehow still stronger and capable of surviving than Zac was.

He tossed his phone down on his bed and walked back to the kitchen. Taylor looked up from the table, where he was laying out plates fancier than any Zac thought he had owned. In all ways, it seemed, he just didn’t and wouldn’t measure up to his brother, but he was determined to try.

“Is everything okay?” Taylor asked.

Zac shrugged, grabbing the plate of garlic bread and carrying it to the table. “Could be worse. Could always be worse.”

“Look, if you need or want to talk about things, I don’t think you’ll find anyone who understands better than I do how their sort of love can be smothering and toxic.”

Zac frowned. He didn’t want to admit it, but Taylor’s description couldn’t have possibly been more perfect. That wasn’t exactly surprising, though. 

“I’m not going to tell you to do anything,” Taylor said softly, hardly even looking up at Zac as he dished out servings of spaghetti for both of them. “Whatever you do, whatever relationship you have with them, it’s your choice.”

“What if _you_ had a choice?” Zac asked. 

“But I don’t.” Taylor looked up at him. “They made the choice for me. And I know they won’t change; if they were going to, they would have by now. I would have heard something, even one single word, from them in the last seven years. But I haven’t. If they could show me something, any proof that they didn’t completely disapprove of everything I am…”

Zac sat down carefully, his eyes trained on Taylor. He didn’t dare speak.

“Of course I want to have a relationship with our parents. Of course, Zac. I don’t hate them; I don’t even know that they hate me. I don’t think they would characterize it that way. Parental relationships are always more complicated than just love and hate. But right now, I just don’t see a way for it to happen. Not for me.”

Zac leaned back against the back of his chair. “I’m so sorry, Tay. I don’t know what else to say. I know I wasn’t responsible for it, but I was there. And I’m still there, still choosing to be in the lives of the people who—”

“Zac, no,” Taylor said, raising a hand to shush him. “I will never, ever blame you for what they did. And I don’t blame you for continuing to want their support and approval, because I know if it were an option for me, I would, too.”

“And it doesn’t bother you that I haven’t cut them off?” Zac asked, and almost immediately regretted it. He somehow doubted he would like Taylor’s answer, no matter what it was.

“You don’t want me to answer that,” Taylor replied. “But yes, it does. Does that mean I’m going to tell you what to do? Once again, no, I’m not.”

Zac nodded. “That’s fair, I guess.”

“I’m trying be,” Taylor said, a sad smile on his face.

“But seriously, thank you for going behind my back and getting me this—this amazing opportunity.”

“You’re welcome,” Taylor replied. “In any case, I figured you deserved something good in your life, too. Although with as much work as its going to be, I’m not sure this fashion show is such a good thing for me.”

Zac reached across the table to grasp Taylor’s hand. “Hey, you’ll be fine. This is your thing, right? Makeup, I mean. It’s what you do. So of course you’ll do great.”

“And painting is your thing,” Taylor replied, a hint of pinkness in his cheeks. “I’m so happy you’ll get the opportunity to show people that.”

“God, we’re sappy as hell,” Zac said.

“Yeah, but so what?” Taylor shot back, smiling. “I wouldn’t have us any other way.”

Zac chuckled, finally picking up his garlic bread and taking a bite. It was, like everything Taylor cooked, absolutely delicious. 

Maybe things weren’t so bad, even if he wasn’t totally sure how he felt about Taylor and Melissa going behind his back. They had done it for a good reason, and the result was good, even if he parents didn’t see it that way.

His parents…

He knew Taylor wasn’t being totally honest. How could he _not_ want Zac to cut ties with them? And how could Zac think that he could go on like this, never revealing to them that Taylor was in his life again? Of course, if they knew… if they even suspected he might be the tiniest bit like Taylor…

Well, that would decide things for him, wouldn’t it? It would hardly even be his fault. If they made their own choice, as they had with Taylor, then all Zac could do would be to live with it. 

Maybe it would be easier that way, Zac reasoned. It probably wouldn’t feel much worse than continuing to lie to them about his sexuality to avoid the same judgment Taylor received. Taylor had managed to survive that, hadn’t he?

But Zac was no Taylor. 

On the other hand, maybe he was closer than he thought. While Taylor told a story about mall fashion show horror stories, Zac smiled and laughed like he couldn’t feel his world beginning to collapse around him. Like he couldn’t see himself careening out of control toward certain disaster. He knew he was, and yet he wasn’t afraid. He knew, somehow, they would get through it together. Maybe they weren’t so different after all.


	24. Favors

Over the next few days, Zac tried not to think too hard about his gallery opening. He knew he needed to find something to wear to it, as Taylor and Melissa both kept pointing out. He was pretty sure he had some old suit Carly had forced him to buy that he could probably wear without thinking of her. That would have to be good enough, he decided, even if his brother and new best friend didn’t agree.

With that successfully pushed out of his mind, he was able to go to class and do a reasonable job of focusing. At least, he was no more distracted than he had been before Taylor’s reappearance in his life, and Zac considered that a win. Maybe things weren’t so bad after all. Maybe he was, somehow, on the right track.

He was halfway through his second class of the day when he heard his phone buzzing from deep within the messenger bag he had tossed on the desk in front of him. No one ever called him, and that alone was reason enough for Zac’s curiosity to overcome Dr. Sisson’s ban on cell phones in class.

Carefully, he slid his hand into the bag and pulled the phone toward him just enough to see the screen. Rather than a missed call, the screen was lit up by a series of text messages.

_Can u possibly get out of class this afternoon???_

_1 of the models didn’t show and we’re freaking out here_

_I mean 1 of the male models!_

Zac couldn’t make heads or tails of what Taylor was trying to tell him or ask him. He stared up at the whiteboard, hoping to look invested in whatever the professor was talking about, as he inched his phone across the desk and into his lap. Slowly, trying not to fully divert his eyes from the front of the classroom, he typed:

**What r u talking abt????**

Zac coughed in a pathetic attempt to cover the sound of his phone buzzing when Taylor’s reply came in.

_This fashion show is going 2 b a disaster if we don’t find a fill in and ur the right size. Please Zac I need this to work out for me_

**Ur asking me to be a model? Are you insane? Have you looked at me??**

Only a matter of seconds after the text was sent, Zac’s phone began to ring. He shoved it back into his bag, along with his notebook—in which he hadn’t taken a single note—and hurried out of the room. He realized he would probably have to answer questions later about the supposed emergency that took him out of class, but he didn’t really care. He hadn’t heard a single word of the lecture anyway; he would have taken any excuse to leave.

By the time he made it into the hallway, the classroom door shutting with a soft _woosh_ behind him, his phone had started ringing again. Or maybe it hadn’t stopped in the first place. Zac slid it open and pressed it to his ear.

“Are you _seriously_ telling me you want me to come be a model?” Zac asked, hating the way his voice went up an octave as he spoke.

“Zac,” Taylor practically whined out. “You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. The whole show is a mess now, and it would look really good for me if I could fix it. It doesn’t pay much, but everyone gets to take home one outfit from the show, and I’ve seen a few things that would look really good for your gallery thing…”

“But you’re talking about me,” Zac said. “ _Me._ As a model. Am I the only one who hears how ridiculous that sounds?” 

“You are. Zac, you’re… I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. No, I don’t think it’s ridiculous. You can do this. You’ll be great. And I will owe you something really, really big.”

Zac sighed. He knew Taylor was being more than a little manipulative, but it didn’t matter. He was weak; it only took a little flattery to win him over. He shifted his phone from one ear to the other, trying to think of any way to protest further, but finally said softly, “Okay. I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“Thank you so much,” Taylor replied. “There’s a makeshift dressing room curtained off by my Sephora; I’ll let them know to let you come right on back so we can get started on your makeup and fit you for the clothes.”

The line went dead before Zac could fully process or even begin to protest what Taylor had said. A part of him hoped he had heard wrong, but he knew it was too late to back out now. With another heavy sigh, he closed his phone and tossed it into his bag. 

He was sure he would regret getting himself into this, but at least it got him out of class, Zac thought to himself as he walked out of the building toward the parking lot where he’d left his car that morning.

Zac drove to the mall in a daze, all the while wondering what he had gotten himself into. He didn’t even realize that he knew where the Sephora was at all, yet his feet carried him there of their own accord. A voice in the back of his mind idly wondered how many times he might have walked by there and not realized his own brother was inside. Then again, Zac wasn’t much of a mall person, which made it all the more ridiculous that he was now going to be parading down the catwalk in a mall fashion show.

Someone outside the curtained off area took his name and escorted him through a veritable maze of curtains, tables and racks of clothing. Finally, he found himself standing in a bathroom that had been re-purposed for the day, with a table covered in makeup along one wall. And there he was—Taylor, looking perfectly in his element, leaning down to run a fluffy brush across some girl’s cheek. 

He glanced up and gave Zac a huge smile, and Zac knew he had done the right thing by coming, even though it might still turn out to be a disaster.

“Okay,” Taylor said, glancing back down at the girl and giving her a smile. “I think we’re done, Jules. I’ve got to get our last minute fill in here prettied up now.”

Zac waited until the girl had walked out of the room, giving him a skeptical smile as she went, before raising an eyebrow and asking, “Prettied up?”

“It won’t take long,” Taylor shot back, then patted the back of what appeared to be a re-purposed desk chair. “Have a seat. I promise it won’t hurt, Zac.”

Although he was still skeptical, Zac carefully lowered himself into the chair and braced himself as Taylor put a cape over his shoulders and secured it in place. It was snug around his neck and he wanted to tug at it, but he knew that wasn’t a good idea. 

“You just need a little bit to combat all the lights on the runway, that’s all,” Taylor murmured in a soothing tone, picking up a few containers of something in various flesh tones and holding them up to Zac’s face. “Just to keep the shine down, cover any little blemishes, that kind of thing. Not the sort of makeup you’ve seen me wear, I promise.”

“That’s reassuring,” Zac replied, cracking just a hint of a smile as he pictured himself in purple glitter. It wasn’t a pretty picture.

“You can close your eyes if it helps,” Taylor said softly. “I’ll let you know when I need you to open them, tilt your head, whatever. But the main thing is to just relax.”

Zac gave a small nod, almost afraid to move any more than that. He closed his eyes, deciding this would definitely be easier if he couldn’t see what Taylor was doing to him.

“Okay, don’t _squeeze_ them shut. I can’t put makeup on if your face looks like a prune.”

With another exhale, Zac tried his best to relax. He only jumped a little as Taylor put a hand on his chin and tilted it up slightly. 

“Okay,” Taylor said, as if in warning.

Sure enough, seconds later Zac felt something wet and cold touch his face. He was glad Taylor had told him to close his eyes; he didn’t want to see anything that felt that gross. Taylor’s touch was feather light, though, and that was reassuring. It made Zac feel warm all over, and after only a few minutes, all the tension and apprehension had drained out of his body. 

There was something strangely relaxing about it all, even when Taylor insisted upon applying mascara, which made Zac feel like his eyelids were too heavy to hold open. Being so close to Taylor, getting that sort of gentle, personal attention from him… it was just nice. Zac knew that word fell far short of describing the feeling, but he was too warm and tingly to think of anything more apt.

“There,” Taylor said, giving Zac a soft pat on the head that probably would have made Zac feel childish under any other circumstances.

“Thank you,” Zac said softly, blinking up at him.

Taylor chuckled. “Thanks for making you prettier than you already were?”

“No,” Zac replied. “Well, yeah, I mean that too. But thank you for everything. Whatever brought us back together… I’m just so grateful for it. And I’m so glad that you don’t hate me.”

“I never could,” Taylor said, his voice barely above a whisper. “No matter what, even when I thought—I thought maybe you were on their side, I didn’t hate you. I hoped you would come to think for yourself and not be brainwashed into being so… so full of hate. But even if you hadn’t, even if we’d never found each other again and I’d never known… I never had any hate for you. None at all.”

“Can I take this off?” Zac asked, tugging at his cape. 

Taylor nodded.

Zac reached behind his head to unsnap the cape and pulled it to the side, letting it fall to the floor. He glanced up at Taylor, who seemed confused. There was a chance Taylor would tell him to stop, he knew. But it was worth the risk. He needed to let Taylor know how he felt, how grateful he was for his brother’s generosity. 

“Does that door lock?” Zac asked.

Taylor nodded slowly, his eyes widening as he seemed to realize what Zac had in mind. With a few long strides, Taylor reached the door and flipped the lock. It made a dull thud that seemed to reverberate through the room. He stepped back in front of Zac, and Zac was pleased to see that Taylor seemed to understand now. As gracefully as he could manage, which he would admit wasn’t very, Zac slid from the chair to the floor, his knees stinging as they connected with the tile. 

“Zac… you can’t…” Taylor said weakly, his words fading out as Zac reached out to lower the zipper on his impossibly tight jeans.

Before Taylor could protest again, Zac’s hand was in his boxer briefs, tugging on his already half-hard length. In only a matter of strokes, he was rock hard and pulsing in Zac’s hand. Zac shoved Taylor’s pants and underwear down with both hands, leaning in to wrap his lips around his brother’s cock as quickly as he could. 

Though he hadn’t had any more practice, Zac felt more at ease this time. He found a rhythm in no time, his fingernails digging into Taylor’s ass cheeks as he bobbed his head shamelessly. He didn’t think he would ever get enough of the way Taylor tasted or the soft moans and whimpers that fell from his lips in time with Zac’s movements.

Taylor shuffled them backward to the sink, planting his hands on the edge of the counter to steady himself. Through it all, Zac did not stop sucking. He wasn’t sure if he had anything left to prove, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

All too soon, Taylor was practically writhing against the sink, pinned as he was between Zac and it. “Zac, I’m… oh, god…”

Zac might have still been an amateur, but he knew what that meant, and this time he was ready. He braced himself, hands firmly planted on Taylor’s thighs and jaw as relaxed as he could manage. Taylor let out another moan, this one just a bit louder than before, and seconds later the taste his Zac’s tongue. This time, he reveled in it, almost in awe of his ability to make Taylor feel so good. It wasn’t just beginner’s luck, if he could do it twice, Zac reasoned.

It took three big gulps before he was sure Taylor was done, though he was still shaking and panting as Zac pulled away to stare up at him.

“I’m going to have to touch up your makeup now,” Taylor said, his tone just this side of scolding.

“Sorry,” Zac replied, though he couldn’t keep himself from grinning.

“No you’re not.” Taylor returned his grin, offering a shaky hand to help him stand. “And I suppose technically this means I owe you _two_ favors now.”

Zac giggled. “Who’s keeping count?”


	25. Debut

The stage lights were blinding. 

That was the first coherent thought Zac had been able to muster since leaving the bathroom with Taylor and being thrust into the hustle and bustle of the fashion show. He had been tugged one direction, then another, with half a dozen people talking to him all at once. The one thing he could focus on was Taylor behind him, carefully and gently fixing his hair. 

And then Taylor was gone and Zac was all alone.

Someone nudged him through the curtain, and there was nowhere left to hide. At least the blinding stage lights prevented him from seeing the audience. All he could focus on were the lights and the glaringly white runway they reflected off.

There were a dozen or so costume changes, each one feeling more and more restrictive than the last. There were blazers, scarves and all sorts of things Zac would never have otherwise worn. It took all of his strength not to tug at the layers as he also struggled not to trip over his own two feet.

And then it was over.

He had just gotten into the routine when he realized he was being handed his own clothes again and Taylor was headed toward him with arms outstretched. Trailing closely behind him was Melissa, and Zac vaguely realized that he was standing there in only his boxers. He should probably cover himself, he thought, but he couldn’t manage to move.

Melissa whistled, then giggled loudly. “You were so good, Zac! I think you’ve got a new career option.”

“That really was so good,” Taylor said, grasping both of Zac’s hands in his. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome,” Zac replied, feeling himself blushing from head to toe.

“Go ahead and get dressed.” Taylor gave his hands a squeeze, then released them. “We’ve got to pick out your free outfit, and apparently Melissa already has a few ideas.”

“I do, I do!” She practically squealed. “And I see a few dresses I’d like for that gallery opening, too. Ooh, do you know what you’re wearing, Taylor? Maybe we can pick out something new for you, too.”

Taylor turned back to Zac, looking a bit sheepish. “If… if Zac wants me there, I suppose I’ll go.”

“Why wouldn’t I want you there?” Zac asked. He knew they couldn’t go as a couple, nor could he even explain to some people where this brother had suddenly come from. But it didn’t matter. He needed Taylor there by his side to give him strength.

“Great!” Melissa said, glancing between the two of them. “Then we’ll all go together. I mean, unless you wanted to ask that person you’ve been seeing, of course.”

Zac stared at her. Of course she would mention that. He opened his mouth to reply, but had no response. That person was staring right back at her, and there was no way he could tell her that.

“Well,” she said, clearing her throat. “You get dressed, and we’ll get a head start on picking out something for your big art debut.”

“Yeah, okay,” Zac croaked out, suddenly feeling even more naked than he already had.

Was it possible that Melissa had just figured out the truth? It seemed absurd. Who would believe that he had fallen in love with his own brother? As he let himself be led toward the racks of clothing left out for the models to choose from, Taylor seemed fairly relaxed. If he wasn’t worried, then perhaps Zac didn’t need to be either.

He tried to focus on that as he put his clothes on back on. With his usual jeans and t-shirt in place, he felt a bit more like himself again, even if his face was still stiff with makeup and his hair full of whatever “product” actually was. It felt like glue. 

He tried to ignore that, too, as he shouldered past girls giggling over glittery dresses and found Melissa holding up a pink blazer to Taylor’s chest. She scrunched up her nose, but her eyes were sparkling. Zac groaned in spite of himself, then hated himself for it. If he were going to be seen in public with Taylor, then he had to accept that Taylor would be himself. He couldn’t ask him to tone anything down. If he had any hope of proving to Taylor that he was better than their parents, he couldn’t dare say a word about who and what Taylor was.

A tiny voice inside his head said that was going to be easier said than done.

“Oh, Zac!” Melissa called out, shoving the pink blazer back onto the rack and yanking out something much more sedated. “Come here; I think I’ve found just the thing.”

Without a word, he stood in front of her, bracing himself for the worst. She held up a blue, subtly striped suit jacket and a grey shirt that buttoned halfway down. That wasn’t so bad, he decided. Clicking his tongue, Taylor reached into the rack and withdrew a pair of very skinny looking jeans with an almost shimmery finish to them. Zac wasn’t so sure about those, but he forced himself to smile anyway.

“I’ll… I’ll give it a try,” he finally replied. 

A huge grin spread across Taylor’s face. “Great. It’s all in your size, so don’t worry; no more changing clothes today. But maybe a new pair of Chucks? Yours are looking pretty rough.”

“I guess they are,” Zac said, looking sheepishly down at his feet. 

There was a big hole in the left one, right next to his big toe. He started to say he’d had that pair for seven years, then remembered that was their last Christmas together. Taylor had gotten a bright red pair, probably the last nice thing their parents had done for him.

He closed his mouth again, deciding that memory was better left buried, if Taylor hadn’t already remembered it on his own.

“Great,” Melissa said. “Now we need to go find something for those of us who aren’t famous runway models.”

Zac rolled his eyes, finding it hard to laugh along with Taylor and Melissa. He found himself oddly jealous, not just of their friendship, but of how relaxed Taylor seemed to be when Zac felt like they were resting on the edge of a knife. 

Still, it had not been an altogether bad day. Once they had collected his check and packed Taylor’s makeup away in his car, Zac slowly began to relax. He still wasn’t much of a shopper, but Taylor and Melissa somehow made it more fun than he expected. 

It only took them three stores before Melissa had found a dress that she seemed happy with. Zac had to admit, the pale peach sequined thing she had chosen did look pretty good. With an extra spring in her step, she led them to one last shop that promised to have something for Taylor.

After Taylor had gone into the dressing room, his arms loaded down with various options, Melissa plopped down on a bench and patted the seat next to her. Zac sat down a bit more gingerly.

“Why do I feel like I’m in trouble?” He asked, forcing himself to laugh, even though it wasn’t a much of a joke at all.

“You’re not,” Melissa replied. “But I do want to know what’s going on in your head lately. You seemed so happy the other day, and now you… I don’t know what you are. What’s going on?”

He shrugged as dismissively as he could manage. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Sure you do,” she said. “Did something happen with that person you were seeing?”

Zac nearly commented on the fact that she was clearly keeping said person gender neutral on purpose, then thought better of it. He wasn’t ready to admit even that much, but he knew that admitting anything would lead Melissa to her own conclusions. He could lie to her, he supposed, but that wouldn’t make him feel any better.

“No,” he finally replied. “Nothing happened.”

Melissa nodded, a tiny smirk crossing her lips. “I get it. You’d just rather go with me and Taylor.”

Before Zac could even begin to formulate any sort of response to that, even a sarcastic one, the dressing room door opened and Taylor stepped out. His long legs were covered by a pair of tight, white jeans, which he had paired with checkered button-down shirt and burgundy cardigan. Every inch of fabric hugged his thin figure, and Zac had to make a concerted effort not to drool, especially when Taylor glanced right at him and brushed back a piece of hair that had fallen over his eyes.

“Well,” Melissa breathed out. “I think that’s the look. And why weren’t _you_ on that runway?!”

Taylor laughed softly. “You know I’d rather be behind the scenes. It’s just the way I’ve always been.”

“All I know is that we are going to be the best looking people at this thing,” Melissa replied. “And lunch is on me.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Taylor said. “Maybe we should make our rich new model friend pay.”

He ducked back into the dressing room, giggling at the frown Zac shot him. 

Once Taylor was out of sight, Zac fell silent again. Melissa reached over and patted his thigh. 

“I still wish you’d talk to me, you know,” she said. “But whatever is going on, I promise it’s going to be okay.”

“if you really knew…” Zac began, then trailed off, staring at the dressing room door. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Melly. I really am.”

“Yeah,” she replied, following his stare. “I’m sorry, too.”

Taylor emerged from the dressing room again before Zac could dare ask Melissa what she meant by that, this time wearing his normal clothes. Zac rushed to grab some of his discarded options and placed them on the rack outside the dressing room as Taylor headed to the register to pay. 

Zac turned back to Melissa and was surprised by the look on her face. It was a look, he realized, of sudden understanding. And that scared him.

“Melly, I…” Zac began, then clamped his mouth shut. He had already incriminated himself enough, he realized.

She shook her head. “You don’t have to tell me anything. Not if you don’t want to.”

“I just don’t know what to say,” Zac said softly.

“There isn’t anyone else, is there?” Melissa asked, then shook her head again. “No, I’m sorry, I don’t need an answer to that. I don’t have any right to ask you anything like that.”

“There isn’t,” Zac said, his voice so soft that he almost hoped Melissa hadn’t heard him at all. But of course she had.

She nodded. “I think I understand now. I mean, why you were so scared, beating yourself up so much. This was the missing piece of the puzzle. The rest of it… I can’t say that I do understand.”

“You’re too smart for your own good,” Zac replied, although the joke fell flat, his voice void of any emotion. His voice shaky, he added, “I’ll understand if you don’t want anything to do with me—or us—anymore.”

Melissa stared at him, and he jumped when he felt her fingers intertwining with this. She stared up at him, her eyes wide. “I said I didn’t understand. I didn’t say I hated you. I just need to try even harder to understand you now, that’s all. You’re both such amazing guys, who were deprived of each other for so long, and I… I don’t know. It’s a lot to think about. But as I said, you are both amazing, and sweet and wonderful. Why wouldn’t I want guys like that in my life?”

Taylor suddenly reappeared, clearing his throat loudly to get their attention. Zac spun to face him, quickly and guiltily dropping Melissa’s hand from his. He tried to ignore the curious expression on Taylor’s face, because that only made him feel worse.

“So,” Taylor said, clearing his throat again. “Cheesecake Factory?”

“Too rich for my blood,” Melissa replied. “College student on a budget over here, and I just blew it all on that dress.”

Zac pulled her hand back and gave it a quick squeeze. “I can pay. Least I can do.”

Melissa smiled, squeezing his hand back. Zac gave her a smile, then dropped her hand again, once again ignoring the puzzled expression on his brother’s face. Somehow, he knew he had dodged a serious bullet in her surprise acceptance of whatever she thought was happening between him and Taylor. It didn’t really matter that he hadn’t told her anything; she had clearly figured enough out for herself. He wasn’t so sure Taylor would be happy to learn about that, though.

Judging by the look on Taylor’s face, though, Zac wouldn’t be able to hide the truth from him for much longer either.


	26. Sell Out

All too soon, Zac found himself stuffed into his new outfit, on his way to the gallery opening with Taylor and Melissa. Taylor had offered to drive, and Zac supposed that was the first of the favors he was trying to repay. That, or he just felt guilty for being half the reason Zac had to dress up and go to this thing in the first place.

There was no way out of it now, Zac realized, as they walked from their parking spot to the gallery, which was already teeming with people. The crowd, Zac noticed, was an odd mixture of hipsters and college professors, and some who might have been both. Taylor blended right in, but Zac couldn’t help feeling that he, and to a lesser extent Melissa, stood out like a sore thumb.

And then there were the paintings.

There were a wide variety of them, from abstract to realistic, and even a few sculptures and installations which Zac had to laugh at Melissa for eyeing curiously. He found himself draw to some of the collages, and wondered if he could incorporate some of that into his next pieces, perhaps with clippings from the sort of fashion magazines he used to tease Taylor for buying… 

“Oh, wow,” Taylor breathed out, suddenly appearing by Zac’s side and grasping his sleeve.

Zac followed his eyes and realized he was staring right at Zac’s series of five paintings. They hadn’t truly been meant to be a series, but Zac had to commend Melissa for picking pieces that went together so perfectly. 

They all had one thing in common: Taylor.

One of the paintings was too much of an extreme close-up to be obvious, and the other portrait featured Taylor in full drag. Rounding out the set were two still lives with makeup and a rather racy one of legs in fishnets. It was a pretty revealing set of paintings, all things considered, but Zac had to admit it was some of his best work. He didn’t know what else he would have chosen if it were up to him; these were the only things he had been inspired to paint in months. And they truly were, if he were being honest, some of his best work.

“Those are… wow, Zac,” Taylor said, giving his arm a squeeze.

Zac glanced at Melissa, whose face was unreadable. Surely she had made the connection before? She knew Taylor. She had to have realized who Zac’s muse was; perhaps that was why she had connected the dots so easily about their relationship. He glanced back at Taylor nervously, unsure if Taylor would realize that Melissa knew their secret.

Before he could even dare to ask, he heard someone call out his name.

“Zac, man!” Shaun called out, clapping a hand onto his shoulder. “And Melissa, looking beautiful.”

“Hey,” Zac said, forcing a smile. It turned a bit more genuine when he saw his other friend looking a bit sheepish by Shaun’s side. “Hey, Drew.”

“What’s up, man?” Shaun said. “Oh, Drew, have you met Zac’s girl, Melissa? And…”

Zac opened his mouth to say something, either to correct Shaun about Melissa’s status or to make up some lie about who Taylor was, but all that came out was a pathetic squeak.

“Jordan,” Taylor said, holding out his hand to Shaun. “Zac’s new roommate.”

Shaun turned back to Zac, his hand remaining in Taylor’s for just a moment too long. “Oh, man, we really need to catch up. When did that happen?”

“Couple weeks ago,” Zac said dumbly. 

Drew was strangely silent, his eyes fixed on a point over Zac’s shoulder. It only took Zac a moment to realize what he must be looking at, and his fears were confirmed when Drew looked at Taylor, then at him, his eyes growing wide.

“I… uh… I need some fresh air,” Zac stuttered out, a faint buzzing in his head drowning out whatever small talk Taylor and Shaun were now making.

He ignored Drew’s open mouthed stare and Melissa’s fingers grasping at his arm. His feet propelled him quickly through the crowd, all of whom were faceless to him. Zac could not focus on anything until he made it outside, a rush of surprisingly cold air hitting him as soon as he was through the door.

Zac gasped for breath, but he could still hear and feel his heart beating in his temples.

Not only had Melissa discovered them, but now Drew had, too. Of course Drew would remember the crossdresser named Jordan. It might have disguised his true identity, but it didn’t hide the fact that Zac was involved with another man. That would be enough of a hurdle for his friends to jump over.

And the rest…

If they ever discovered the rest of the truth, Zac didn’t know what he would do. He couldn’t even imagine one second into the future, let alone if the inevitable happened. And it was inevitable, wasn’t it? If Melissa could figure it out, it couldn’t be nearly as secret as Zac had assumed.

It was only a matter of time. And right then, time felt like it was standing still.

“Zac? Are you okay?” 

He spun around, suddenly realizing how far he was from the gallery when he saw Melissa practically sprinting toward him. He didn’t remember walking so far, but he supposed he had—or perhaps he had run, judging by how out of breath he suddenly realized he was.

Melissa stared at him, wide eyed. “Of course you’re not okay. I’m sorry. That was a stupid question.”

“Everyone… everyone’s going to know,” he breathed out.

“No offense, Zac, but your friends are really not that smart.”

Zac stared her down. “You were.”

“I am clearly the exception,” she shot back. “But honestly, how would they know? I don’t think Shaun even connected the dots and realized that was who you had painted. I’m pretty sure he thought you had painted _me_ , judging by the way he kept leering at me. I’m going to need at least two showers tonight, by the way, to wash _that_ off.”

“They were at the club,” Zac said. “You know, the Electric Ballroom? Where we picked him up that time? That was… that was where we met. I mean. Where we found each other. Again.”

“You can tell me the whole story some other time,” Melissa said. “But I mean, you were all drunk then, right? What’s the chance they even remember?”

“I don’t know,” Zac replied honestly. “Drew does. He… he knew. I mean, he figured out that the girl I had been flirting with was a man.”

“But Shaun didn’t?” Melissa asked, and Zac shook his head. “Okay. That’s not so bad then. I like Drew; he seems like a good guy. And anyway, neither of them know he’s your brother, right? Especially since he just covered both of your asses by using his first name.”

“He did.” Zac realized. “So much for those favors he thought he owed me.”

Melissa tilted her head to the moment, then shook it, evidently deciding that wasn’t worth questioning. “So I don’t know why you’re acting like it’s the end of the world. Do either of them even know your brother is back? I’m assuming no, since they didn’t even know you had a ‘roommate.’”

“They don’t,” Zac said. “So maybe… maybe it isn’t so bad. I don’t know. I just don’t know how much longer we can do this. Keep it a secret. I mean, how can it be? We’re so obvious.”

“You’re obvious because I know you both and I saw the paintings. Your friends only know you, and honestly, I’m wondering how well they know you. No offense. I’m really flattered that you have gotten so comfortable with me and shared so much with me, but you’ve known those two so much longer.”

“I have, but after this last semester, it feels like I don’t know them at all.” Zac sighed. After a moment, he added. “Like I don’t even know me at all.”

Melissa leaned against the side of the building. “Okay, I lied. Can I get a summary of the story?”

“Umm,” Zac said, leaning next to her and letting out a long sigh. “Well, we were at the club. They were trying to cheer me up, you know? And I met this girl—only she wasn’t a girl. She was—you know. He realized it first, but still too late. And it probably doesn’t matter, but yes, that was the first time I’d been with a guy.”

Melissa nodded. “You don’t have to justify any of it to me.”

“Don’t I?” Zac asked. “I mean, for god’s sake, he’s my—how can you be okay with that? How can _I_ be okay with that?”

“It helps that I had some time to think about it,” Melissa admitted. “I mean, I saw the paintings, and then I saw the way you looked at him. And, well, I have a lot of academic journals at my disposal. So I did some research. There haven’t been that many studies, probably because they can’t find people who would be open about it even under the promise of anonymity. But anyway, what I found was mostly about siblings who weren’t raised together, for whatever reason. They called it genetic sexual attraction. It’s apparently a thing. Some of them didn’t know the other person’s real identity when they met; some of them did, and they fell in love anyway. I know it’s different with you two, but you _were_ apart for a long time. Time when you both grew and developed a lot. So if you didn’t recognize each other but you did feel something—that’s understandable.”

“If you say so,” Zac replied. He took Melissa’s hand in his. “But leave it to you to find an explanation for something I’m still so confused by. I know what I feel, though. But just… thank you so much. I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t understand. So seriously, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,’ Melissa replied.

“There you two are,” Taylor said, practically jogging down the sidewalk toward them. “Is everything okay?’

“Yeah,” Zac said. “In case you weren’t aware, Melissa is pretty dam awesome.”

Taylor looked confused, but smiled. “Well, so are you. All of your paintings sold, and the gallery wants more.”

Zac tilted his head to the side. He had heard every word Taylor said, somehow they didn’t seem to make sense in the order he had said them. “They want… more? More what?”

“More of your work!” Taylor exclaimed. “Zac, you’re popular. Successful, even. I told you that you could do it. This is your thing. And this is your chance. They’re going to give you a call in a week or so to talk about it; I told them you’d need to think it over. Maybe that’ll get you an even better deal.”

Melissa squealed, squeezing Zac’s hand. “Zac, that’s so great!”

“Yeah… yeah, it is,” Zac breathed out. 

She stared up at him, then slowly turned to Taylor. “Why don’t we go get some drinks to celebrate?”

“I could definitely use a drink,” Zac replied.

Taylor still had a hint of confusion in his eyes, but he stepped in and brushed his hand against Zac’s arm. “Congrats, Zac. You deserve it. So much.”

Zac smiled. “And just so you know, you don’t owe me a damn thing.”

Taylor laughed, and Zac couldn’t resist laughing along. Melissa joined in, even though Zac was sure she didn’t understand the joke. It didn’t matter; they were just enjoying the moment. 

As the three of them walked arm in arm down the street, Zac finally felt himself relax. He knew he still had a lot to answer for, including blowing off his other friends, but this felt right. After everything, he decided he owed it to himself to finally follow his heart and not his mind.


	27. Everything About You

The day after the gallery opening, Zac did something rash.

He knew it was a bad choice, but he couldn’t stop himself. All he could think about was the fact that he was now, technically, a working artist. The gallery hadn’t been in touch with him yet, but he decided that he needed to be ready. He still had several sketches and paintings in progress; he could finish a few of them easily and have something the gallery would hopefully want.

And so, Zac skipped all his classes. He picked up a large coffee and bagel and headed straight to the art studio, determined to work all day on his paintings.

He worked all the way through lunch, hardly even noticing that time had passed until it was nearly too late. He decided to grab another coffee and keep going; if he stayed on campus until dinner, then perhaps Taylor wouldn’t even realize he had skipped classes. Somehow, he was more concerned with disappointing Taylor than disappointing his professors.

Then again, Taylor had mad it pretty clear that he didn’t understand why Zac was in grad school at all. Zac had to admit that he wasn’t so sure either.

Finally, hours and several paintings later, Zac decided it was time to head home. He put his supplies away carefully, then headed back to where he had parked his car. He was just about to unlock it when he heard someone call out his name.

Drew.

Zac spun around to face him, forcing as much of a smile as he could manage. Drew seemed to be doing much the same, his hands in his pockets as he walked toward Zac.

“Hey, I, umm,” Drew began, then cleared his throat. “I just wanted to say congrats. On the whole art thing. I didn’t really get a chance last night—before, umm, before you ran off.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Zac replied, glancing down at the pavement.

“About that,” Drew said. “I mean, I just—this Jordan guy? He’s not—well, he’s the guy from the club isn’t he?”

For a brief moment, Zac considered lying. But he liked Drew; he’d considered him his best friend for a long time. They had been roommates before Zac moved in with Carly. He had, at one point, known Zac better than just about anybody in the world. Zac found that he just couldn’t lie to him. Instead, he nodded his head, his hair falling over his eyes as he did so.

“I thought so,” Drew replied softly. “I don’t… I mean, is he… he’s just your roommate, right?”

Zac could tell that Drew was trying to give him an out, an escape clause. A way to try to deny the reality that was right in front of them. Zac knew he should have been grateful for that opportunity and should have taken it.

And yet he couldn’t.

“No, he’s—I mean, we haven’t put a label on it.” It wasn’t entirely the truth. It also wasn’t a lie, either.

Drew nodded, taking a few steps backward. They felt like a slap in the face to Zac. 

He wanted to say something, anything to try to lessen the blow. To try to take it back and tell Drew that, no, he wasn’t really dating a man. He had just misunderstood the question. He wasn’t gay. It wasn’t like that at all.

But it _was_ like that, and Zac knew it would do him no good to deny it. No more than the damage it had done to admit it… he hoped.

Drew cleared his throat. “I just—I mean, I’m glad you told me. I don’t know what to think, but… well, I really don’t know what Shaun will think.”

“Don’t tell him. Please don’t tell him.” Zac blurted out without everything thinking. He realized that he had known, subconsciously, that Shaun would be the one to disapprove, while Drew just might be more accepting. He always had been, hadn’t he? Zac should have known he could open up to Drew the way he had Melissa, and it made him feel guilty that he hadn’t.

“No, of course not,” Drew said. “You should talk to him, though. I mean, he’s bound to figure it out or hear something from somebody, you know? It’ll be better if it comes from you, I think. Anyway, I just—I just wanted to ask. So yeah, thanks for telling me, and sorry if it wasn’t really any of my business.”

Zac shrugged. “It’s not exactly how I meant for anybody to find out. I mean, I don’t even know what there is to find out—it’s just. It’s just a thing that happened and we’re both kinda rolling with it, you know?”

Drew nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense. I guess. As much as anything does. I mean, no offense, but he seems a hell of a lot better for you than Carly was.”

“A massive heart attack would be better for me than Carly was,” Zac said, surprising himself with his callous tone and the way he laughed after he said it. He wasn’t even offended that Drew laughed, too.

“Well, anyway, glad we talked,” Drew said, rubbing his mouth with his hand as though it would stop his laughter. “I’ll see you around, alright? Try not to be a stranger.”

“I’ll try,” Zac replied weakly, knowing that this one conversation likely wouldn’t change a single thing about his behavior. He was pretty sure Drew knew that too, but he appreciated the thought anyway.

The two said an awkward goodbye, dancing around each other as much as they had the subject at hand. Once Drew had finally turned and walked away, Zac climbed into his car, practically collapsing into the seat. He wasn’t sure if that conversation had taken a weight of his shoulders or not. Perhaps it had only replaced one weight with another.

Figuring Taylor would be home from work by then, Zac put his car in drive and headed back to their apartment. It took him a moment to realize he had thought of it as _theirs_ , but he supposed that it was. It was perhaps a little strange just how quickly this had become his new normal, but Zac knew he wouldn’t change it for anything.

Sure enough, just a few minutes later, when he opened the apartment door, the scent of hamburgers hit him immediately. He idly wondered if Taylor would ever get tired of cooking for him, and then immediately hoped that he never would.

“Oh, hey,” Taylor said, smiling up at Zac from the kitchen table. “How was your day?”

“A little strange. But not bad.” Zac smiled and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. What about you?”

Taylor shook his head as well. “Go put your bag down and get changed. And brace yourself, because I have another big favor to ask.”

“Does it involve me in makeup again?” Zac grinned.

“Probably not,” Taylor replied, giving Zac a grin of his own.

“That better be a promise,” Zac replied, then hurried out of the room before Taylor could say otherwise. 

He tossed his bag down on his bed and changed into a pair of sweatpants. There was a big smudge of paint on his jeans that he hadn’t noticed, and he hoped Taylor hadn’t noticed it either. He plugged his phone into the charger by the bed, then shuffled back to the kitchen.

“Alright, spill it,” Zac said, plopping down in a chair in front of the burger Taylor had already laid out for him exactly the way he liked it. Taylor was definitely trying to butter him up and he didn’t mind at all.

“Okay,” Taylor said, then took a deep breath. “Well, there’s this big convention thing in Fort Worth next week. And a rep from it was at the fashion show. Plus, he’s seen my portfolio. Long story short, they want me there to do some of the demonstrations. It’s like three days, and a ton of work, but it’s going to pay pretty well. But the thing is—and I know it’s not that long of a drive or anything—I was hoping you’d come with me. The hotel rooms are not cheap on this short notice, so I was thinking…”

“Because I’m the big rich working artist now,” Zac quipped then popped a french fry in his mouth.

Taylor rolled his eyes. “Well, no. I mean, yeah, in a way. But mostly I just thought it would be a good chance for us to get away. I know you’d have to miss a few classes, but I think it would be good for you, especially, to take a little bit of a break.”

“It might be,” Zac replied. “You know, the deadline to register for summer classes is next week.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Taylor asked.

“I don’t think I’m taking any. I decided—today, actually. Just now. I really do need a break.”

Taylor gave Zac a big grin. “I think—I think that will be really good for you, Zac. What are you going to do all summer, though?”

“I don’t know,” he replied honestly. “I usually pick up a few odd jobs from some of my professors. I actually did some house painting last summer, of all things.”

“Maybe you can do some real painting this summer,” Taylor replied. “Or who knows, maybe this convention will get you interested in the kind of stuff I do.”

“I don’t think I’m going to be a makeup artist,” Zac shot back. 

“Hey, some of the special effects stuff is pretty neat,” Taylor said. “I bet you’d like it. And your blending on that one portrait of me was pretty fantastic.”

Zac felt himself blushing. “I didn’t… I didn’t know those were the ones Melissa picked. Sorry you had to see them all like that.”

“Sorry?” Taylor stood up and picked up his chair, then deposited it right next to Zac, close enough for their knees to touch when he sat back down. “Why would you be sorry for that? Those paintings were amazing. You are so talented, and the passion you have—it really showed there.”

“Well, the subject matter helped,” Zac mumbled, not meeting Taylor’s eyes.

“I would love to be able to make my love for you that tangible,” Taylor replied. “You don’t know what a gift that is, to be able to turn those feelings outward and show them to the world like that. I have to admit, I’m jealous.”

“You’re just as much of an artist,” Zac said, finally glancing up slowly. “It’s a different kind of art, but—like _everything_ about you is art. The makeup you do, the way you make people your canvas. The things you cook for me, even though you know I’d be happy to eat frozen pizza and ramen every day. Everything about you, everything you do is proof of the love you have—not just for me, the love you have for life. And you have no idea how jealous I am of that, Tay. I haven’t been through half of what you have, and I’m barely hanging on half the time.”

Taylor reached out to touch Zac’s cheek. “I love you so much. I just wanted to be sure you knew that. It feels silly to say, considering you’re my brother. Of course I love you. But… but you know what I mean.”

“I do,” Zac replied. “And I love you, too.”

“I hope that’s your round-a-bout way of saying you’ll go with me to this thing,” Taylor said, a couple tears welling up in the corner of his eyes. He let out a loud, nervous laugh.

Zac returned his laugh. “Of course I will. Maybe I’ll even model for you again.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Taylor replied. 

Zac just laughed again, resting his head against Taylor’s hand. He didn’t know what he was going to do that summer—or the next day, for that matter—but it didn’t matter. Being with Taylor, being loved by him, was enough. With that, everything else was sure to fall into place.


	28. Couple

The trip to Fort Worth came all too soon and coincided rather neatly with the deadline on Zac’s last assignments of the semester. While Taylor worked and networked, Zac stayed holed up in their hotel room, slaving away on his laptop. 

That wasn’t entirely true. He spent equally as much time doodling idly in his sketchbook. Unsurprisingly, everything he drew was Taylor. 

It managed to occupy him well enough for the first day until Taylor made it back to the room with a box of pizza and a six pack. By the second afternoon, though, Zac was feeling like a hermit, and not in a pleasant way. He needed company. Zac had never thought he was much of an extrovert, but after spending a day and a half in a hotel room, he was starting to reevaluate that. 

He closed his laptop decisively and decided it was time to leave the room. With a sketchbook and a bag of colored pencils in hand, he headed out of their room and down to the first floor where most of the convention was taking place.

Big crowds like that could be overwhelming, but Zac found it was also easy to blend in. He could be surrounded by people, yet not have to interact with a single one of them. He liked that. 

He settled himself into a chair where he could watch people milling about. It gave him plenty to sketch without much effort. Still, so many of his sketches ended up looking like Taylor. It seemed his brother was the only thing on his brain, and Zac wasn’t sure he wanted to change that. After so long without him, so long spent wondering, Zac was pleasantly surprised to find that he couldn’t get enough of Taylor at all.

He didn’t know how long he had sat there drawing when he finally glanced up and saw Taylor walking toward him. It must have been quite some time, as Zac realized with a start that his hand was cramping. He wiggled his fingers as he smiled up at his brother.

“What’s a cutie like you doing all alone here?” Taylor teased, sitting on the arm of the chair.

Zac gave him a little nudge, not enough to push him into the floor, just enough to tease. “Trying to keep from being bored out of my mind. How about you?”

“Finishing up for the day, actually,” Taylor replied. “But I can think of one thing that might keep you from being bored…”

“What’s that?” Zac asked, glancing at his cell phone to see that hours had indeed passed since he had walked downstairs. 

“Well, there’s a big afterparty at the club next door…” Taylor said, drawing the words out.

“You may find this hard to believe, but I’m really not much of a clubber,” Zac replied.

“No, I didn’t really think you were,” Taylor said, sliding into the chair so that he was half on top of Zac. “But you know I am, and I’d prefer not to go alone. I just thought it might be fun for us to go together. But we can stay in and be boring old fuddy duddies if you want.”

“I think we already are fuddy duddies, simply because you just used that word. Seriously, Tay?”

Taylor giggled, then stood up and did a ridiculous little shimmying dance. “Oh, come on. Let’s get something to eat, then hit the club.”

“Are you going to make me dance?” Zac asked. “Specifically, are you going to make me dance like that?”

“What’s wrong with my dance moves?” Taylor replied, his motions becoming even more exaggerated. While he looked absurd, there was still something Zac found absurdly hot about the way he moved his hips.

Zac was definitely going to hell. And he found that he didn’t care at all.

He allowed Taylor to take his hand and pull him from the chair. He had even less rhythm than Taylor but he didn’t care. They danced their way to the elevator, and Zac hardly even noticed the strange looks they earned along the way. This convention was full of plenty of strange people; they might as well try to fit in, he decided. Adapt to their crazy surroundings.

When they made it to the room, finally, after a brief makeout session in the elevator, Taylor announced that he desperately needed a shower even before he could go clubbing. Zac offered to order room service while he did so, and settled in to work on his classwork more while he waited for the food to arrive and Taylor to emerge.

The food arrived first, and Zac dug into his hamburger without even waiting for Taylor. He didn’t think Taylor would mind. It took a little effort to balance the burger in one hand and type with the other, but Zac managed.

He was halfway through his burger when Taylor walked back into the room, wearing nothing but a towel slung low on his hips. Zac practically choked on his own tongue at the sight.

“Well, hello to you too,” Taylor said, giggling. “Looks like you’ve had a ton of fun while I was gone.”

“Not really. To be honest, I don’t even know what the point is anymore.”

Taylor sat down next to him, concern painted all over his face. “What do you mean?”

“No, not that. Not… us. I just mean—this whole grad school thing. What am I even going to do with this degree? Teach? That’s the only thing I could do with it that I couldn’t do without.”

“So why are you still working on it?” Taylor asked.

“That’s the question I keep asking myself, and I just don’t have an answer,” Zac said.

“Well, I don’t have an answer for you either. I think it’s something you’ll have to figure out for yourself.” Taylor paused for a second, then smiled. “But you came on this trip to have fun, didn’t you? To get outside of your own head. Out of your comfort to zone.”

“I guess I did,” Zac admitted. An idea came over him, and although it scared him, he decided to go for it anyway. “You know what would _really_ get me out of my comfort zone?”

Taylor stared at Zac for a moment, and Zac just stared back. Even though he thought he was brave enough to try it, he didn’t quite know how to say it. He stared at Taylor imploringly, hoping his brother would get the hint.

Finally, Taylor’s expression of confusion turned to a wide grin. 

“Oh. Okay,” Taylor said. “I’m going to eat dinner, because I have a feeling I’ll need a lot of strength for this. You go take a shower. And shave—everything.”

****

A dozen or so cuts and nicks later, Zac emerged from the bathroom, little pieces of toilet paper adhered to his chin and legs. He hoped Taylor hadn’t intended for him to shave _down there_ as well. That was a bridge too far, as far as Zac was concerned. 

Trying to ignore Taylor’s eyes on him, he dug his tightest pair of boxer briefs out of his suitcase and pulled them on. Taylor stood in front of him, staring up and down his body in a way that made Zac feel more like a piece of meat than he ever had, even more than when he’d dressed and undressed in front of half a dozen other “models”. He very nearly reconsidered the whole thing, but then Taylor smiled. Zac would do anything to see that smile.

“Alright,” Taylor said, pulling out the desk chair and motioning toward it. “Have a seat. And brace yourself, because this is going to be more involved than last time. At least your hair will be easy; it’s long enough and girls would kill for the volume you have.”

“Thanks?” Zac replied, sitting down carefully.

Taylor leaned down and lifted Zac’s chin. “Honestly, if you don’t know by now just how gorgeous you are. How just—naturally _gifted_ you are. I don’t know what more I can do to make you see it.”

“I don’t know, either,” Zac replied honestly. “But I just… I look at you. And I never measured up to you, Tay. I mean, in spite of all the other bullshit, everyone always made it pretty damn clear that I was the lesser of the two of us.”

“Then everyone is full of shit,” Taylor said simply, opening his makeup case and surveying it without another glance at Zac. He turned back to Zac a moment later, holding out something that looked like a tiny medieval torture device. “Now, you’re going to need to be very still. This… may hurt a little.”

****

It hurt more than a little, but Zac didn’t dare admit that. 

At Taylor’s instructions, he did not look at himself in the mirror, even as Taylor poked and prodded endlessly at his face, then carefully dried his hair and sprayed it with something that made him cough and gag. 

There was something amusing about watching Taylor at work. It was fascinating to watch at any time, but to see that effort applied to _himself_ was something else entirely. Zac probably should have felt offended at the effort it took for Taylor to transform him, but he didn’t. He still didn’t truly know what had possessed him; there was no possible way he would look even half as good as Taylor did. 

Once Zac’s hair and makeup was finished, Taylor practically dove headfirst into his suitcase, murmuring to himself about which items might fit Zac best. Finally, he pulled out a very, very short dress and a lacy item that Zac belatedly realized was a bra.

“Don’t worry,” Taylor replied, giggling a bit. “I can help you put the bra on if you want. It already has plenty of padding, at least. You’re built like a linebacker—I mean that in a good way, I promise--so I just hope it fits. If I’d known you were planning this, I could have brought an extender or something. The dress is stretchy, though, and definitely your color.”

Zac eyed the dark green, glittery thing in his hand with some doubt. 

“Zac,” Taylor said, grasping his hands and pressing a pair of black suede wedges into them. “You don’t have to do this, you know. This is all your idea; I won’t be offended if you back out.”

“No,” Zac replied, shaking his head. “I want to try. I want—I need to understand you. I need this. To be closer to you.”

Taylor nodded. “Okay… if you say so. And—thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Zac said. “But if you don’t mind, I think I’ll do this in the bathroom; I don’t think even you need to see me try to get into this thing.”

Taylor smirked. “Okay. Yell if you need help.” 

Zac nodded, then turned and walked toward the bathroom. Just as he was about to close the door, a pair of fishnet pantyhose sailed through the air and landed on his shoulder.

****

Several embarrassing, frustrating minutes later, Zac opened the door and took a few cautious steps back into the room. The wedges were surprisingly easy to walk in, although he found himself tugging at the hose to get them into just the right position. Somehow, everything had fit, although Zac was sure he was far heavier than Taylor. 

Taylor glanced up at him slowly, his hands frozen in motion with his own lacy hose halfway up his legs. In the time it had taken Zac to dress, Taylor had put on a full face of makeup and nearly completed his own transformation.

“You look beautiful,” Taylor breathed out, sounding almost as though he were in awe. “I mean, you’re beautiful anyway, but I have to hand it to myself for this one. Come look.”

He motioned Zac toward the mirror, and Zac only stumbled once on his walk toward it. What he saw was almost unrecognizable. His lips were brick red, looking even more comically large than usual, but somehow in a good way. The rest of his face was painted with shades of copper and green, not quite glittery, but certainly shimmering. He didn’t have Taylor’s curves, but the padded bra and dress disguised that fact somewhat. 

“Wow,” Zac said finally.

“We make a pretty cute couple, if I do say so myself,” Taylor replied, appearing behind Zac in the mirror, a brush and can of hairspray in his hand. 

“Couple?” Zac said, staring at Taylor’s reflection.

Taylor paused. “Is that… I mean, I don’t know what we are. I don’t know what to say.”

“I don’t know either,” Zac replied. “But I think… I think I like that.”

“Yeah?” Taylor asked.

Zac nodded.

Taylor smiled, wrapping an arm around Zac’s waist. “I like it, too.”


	29. Anywhere

Zac hadn’t known quite what to expect from the club Taylor had taken him to; he had been so drunk at the Electric Ballroom that he hardly noticed the difference between it and any other bar. In any case, it had catered to all types, while this particular club was nearly all male.

At least, Zac thought it was. It was hard to tell, considering the way so many of them were dressed, himself included.

And Taylor--who was, as always, the star of the show. 

Zac wondered if Taylor knew just how _special_ he was. If he knew how much he stood out from a crowd, whether he tried to or not, and how much easier that had always made it for Zac to fade away into the background. He had been a teenager before he noticed that tendency in himself, and he supposed that for Taylor, being the center of attention was innate as well. It was just a part of him, and so Zac could hardly be jealous when everyone in the bar was clamoring to buy his brother a drink and slip him their phone number.

Okay, he could be a little jealous.

He sipped his own drink patiently while Taylor smiled obligingly at the latest potential suitor. Whether it was the rum or the glance Taylor shot him that made his face flush, he couldn’t say. But that glance said it all. They could flirt all they wanted—Taylor was going home with him and no one else.

“Did you come here by yourself?” Taylor asked, and Zac jumped, having been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t even realized his brother was free of desperate men looking for a hookup and was standing directly in front of him, a smirk on his painted lips.

“Hmm?” Zac mumbled, briefly wondering if he’d had too much to drink, before his sense of humor finally came back to him. “No, but my date has barely had time for me all night. Guess that’s what I get for picking someone out of my league.”

“He must really be something,” Taylor remarked, looking Zac up and down. “I mean, to be out of _your_ league.”

Zac gave Taylor what he hoped past for a sultry look, then burst into giggles. “We are ridiculous. You do realize that?”

“I never claimed to be anything else,” Taylor replied, then leaned in and placed a gentle kiss to the tip of Zac’s nose. His breath was fruity and alcoholic, and it lingered for a moment, making Zac wonder if Taylor’s mouth tasted as sweet as it smelled.

He decided not to wait to find out. There was no one there who would know how wrong this was, after all; not a single person in Fort Worth knew the two of them or their true relationship. With that thought in mind, Zac put a hand on Taylor’s thin waist and pulled him close, reveling in the strange textures between them, the way that their silky clothes and stuffed bras altered the feeling of their bodies pressed together. It made the whole experience that much more exotic, more… well, more _wrong_ , but in a way that was an intoxicating as the rum Zac quickly downed before pressing his lips to his brother’s.

Taylor kissed him back frantically, but briefly. He pulled back breathlessly after what felt like only a second, and gave Zac the most wicked smirk he had ever seen. “Let’s dance.”

“Let’s not,” Zac replied, but his words were lost in the din of loud electronic music as Taylor took him by the hand and led him onto the dance floor.

It was useless, Zac realized, to try to explain to Taylor that he was not a dancer at all. The last time he had danced was his senior prom, and he had stepped on his date’s feet no less than a dozen times. He hadn’t even wanted to go; doing anything fun and normal had seemed wrong even a full three years after the loss of his brother.

But now his brother had been found, and was doing some sort of shimmying move with his hips that made Zac’s heart jump into his throat—and other parts of his body react, as well. 

“Come _on_ ,” Taylor said, the whine in his voice loud enough to be heard even over the pulsing beat of some song Zac almost recognized. 

He shook his head, but he knew there was no escaping it. They were dancing. Considering the fact that he was wearing a very, very short dress, dancing wasn’t likely to be the most embarrassing thing he did that night. Slowly, he began to sway his hips, trying to mimic Taylor’s moves, even though Taylor barely had a sense of the beat at all. It didn’t matter. Within minutes, they were both lost in the music and in each other, their bodies moving frenetically, but in sync nonetheless.

The crowd around them was so large that it forced their bodies even closer together--not that Zac minded at all, and it seemed clear that Taylor didn’t either. The dance floor was teeming with bodies, the heat of them thick in the air. Zac did not even realize they had been jostled into a corner until his back collided with the wall. The jolt threatened to sober him up for a moment, but then a pleasant haze settled over him again and he smiled up at Taylor.

“This is nice,” Taylor mumbled, his lips close enough to Zac’s ear that he felt the words as much as heard them. 

Secluded as they seemed to be, just down a hallway off the side of the dance floor, the thumping of the music was a bit muted, but Zac still could not seem to catch his breath. He supposed that had more to do with Taylor’s hand sliding down the side of his dress than anything else about their surroundings. When Taylor’s fingernails dug into his hip, Zac’s leg shot out to wrap around his brother’s as though it had a mind of its own. 

“Please,” Zac muttered, not even knowing what he was asking for.

“Here?” Taylor asked.

Zac glanced up and down the empty hallway, and shrugged. “Anywhere.”

“You don’t mean that, but okay,” Taylor replied, that damnable smirk crossing his lips again. Zac wondered if it was liquor that cased that expression, or him. He didn’t want to flatter himself by assuming the latter, but he knew that he would do whatever he could to make Taylor look at him like that always.

“I don’t know what I mean anymore,” Zac admitted, the words breathed out against Taylor’s lips as he leaned in for another kiss. “I just know I want you. All of you. Always.”

Taylor’s cheeks might have turned a bit darker pink, but it was hard to tell under the shimmery makeup already coloring them. He turned his head a bit to instead press his kiss to the corner of Zac’s lips and replied, “Ditto. And tell me if you want me to stop.”

Zac didn’t have time to ask what that meant before Taylor was nudging his leg farther up until it was wrapped high around Taylor’s thigh. The dress hid just how strong and muscular Taylor was for someone so skinny, and Zac didn’t worry at all about whether or not he might lose his balance. He was somewhat concerned about how much of him might be exposed to the club, but given the sort of men that surrounded them, all drunk and looking for their own hookups, Zac didn’t think anyone would really notice.

With his leg lifted as it was, it was all too easy for Taylor to slide his hand up Zac’s skirt. It danced along his thigh, tickling and burning every spot his fingers touched. Tremors shot through his body as Taylor’s hand slipped into the fishnet hose covering his legs. When it found its way onto the lacy material of the panties he had borrowed from Taylor—and that was a thought that made Zac even dizzier, imagining his brother wearing that thin slip of material—Zac’s other leg threatened to give out. Thankfully, Taylor had him pinned to the wall tightly enough to prevent that from happening… and tightly enough that he could feel Taylor’s own erection pressing against his stomach.

“God,” Taylor breathed out, and Zac had to agree.

Taylor nudged the rough lace aside and wrapped his hand expertly around Zac’s dick, making Zac briefly marvel at how experienced his brother was. It was good thing one of them was, Zac decided, because he felt like he was barely treading water every time the two of them fooled around. It was much easier to let Taylor take the lead, and taking the lead he was, his lips pressed against Zac’s neck as his hand trailed down to give Zac’s balls a gentle squeeze.

Zac wanted to say something, but found himself suddenly incapable of speech. Taylor’s other hand, which he had entirely lost track of, suddenly appeared on his front, tracing the neckline of his dress and threatening to dip into it and the bra that lay beneath its very low neckline. He toyed with the lace around the edge of the bra, then trailed his finger up Zac’s neck and jawline, bringing it to rest right along Zac’s bottom lip.

“You said all of me, right?” Taylor breathed out.

Zac nodded, then parted his lips and darted out his tongue to lap at Taylor’s finger. It had only been a day or two since he’d practiced a similar maneuver on another part of Taylor’s anatomy, and Zac was finally starting to gain a little confidence in his abilities. The fact that Taylor moaned and his hand—the one currently cupping Zac’s balls—trembled only gave Zac more confidence, enough that he sucked Taylor’s finger into his mouth completely and wiggled his eyebrows a bit as he imitated what he would have done to Taylor’s dick.

The thought of dropping to his knees and shoving Taylor’s skirt up right there in the club made Zac let out a moan of his own. That sent another shockwave through Taylor’s body, and in seconds he had pulled his finger out of Zac’s mouth with an audible pop that might have made Zac laugh if he hadn’t been so turned on and unable to think of anything but Taylor’s body and all that parts of it he desired.

Taylor shifted their positions a bit, but Zac was too far gone to understand quite what was happening. He came back to he senses when he felt Taylor’s hand creeping further back, stretching the limits of his lacy panties, and one finger pressing against a part of Zac’s body that no one else had ever touched.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Zac breathed out, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears.

Taylor chuckled softly. “I haven’t even touched you yet. If you think _this_ is good…”

He trailed off, but Zac’s imagination began to fill in the blanks so vividly that it was a shock to his system on multiple levels when he felt Taylor’s finger press into him. The muscles in his thighs, particularly the one wrapped around Taylor’s waist, tensed and trembled, and for a moment, Zac regretted asking Taylor for this. 

But only for a moment. 

A wave of pleasure swept over him as Taylor’s finger slipped further in, and when he felt Taylor’s knuckles against him, he relaxed entirely. His brother planted a soft kiss to the sensitive spot behind his left ear, as if to reassure him further. But why would Taylor ever hurt him? Why would he ever steer him wrong? It didn’t matter what anyone else had tried to convince him of over the years—Zac trusted and loved Taylor completely. 

“The hotel,” Zac gasped out. “Back—let’s go back. I want… I need. But not like this.”

“Not like this,” Taylor echoed, nodding.

Still, he didn’t stop. Instead, he gave a slight flick of his wrist, beginning to thrust his finger in and out of Zac. 

“Please,” Zac practically whined. He ran a hand down Taylor’s front and grasped the obvious erection straining against his brother’s tight skirt. “I said all of you.”

“You did,” Taylor agreed, pulling his finger back so quickly that it left Zac gasping for breath.

Taylor grasped Zac’s hand in his, and Zac didn’t even hesitate to think about where said hand had just been. All he knew was that he would follow Taylor anywhere. The view of his pleather-clad ass, barely covered at all by his short skirt, didn’t help, Zac thought to himself as Taylor practically dragged him through the club.

Yes, Zac thought to himself. Anywhere.


	30. Pain and Pleasure

It was only a short walk back to the convention center, but even that was enough for Zac to realize just how intoxicated he was—both due to all the alcohol and due to his brother, practically skipping down the sidewalk despite his stiletto heels.

The whole scenario was absolutely absurd, but Zac had come to accept the absurd over the last few weeks. Had it only been weeks? It seemed like a lifetime, in the best possible way, since Taylor had shimmied his way back into Zac’s life. 

The hotel was still buzzing with activity when they made their way through the large lobby and into the glass elevator up to their room, but Zac hardly noticed it. In any case, the two of them didn’t stand out amongst the crowd of flamboyantly dressed and made-up men and women. They might have, though, if Zac had given in to his desire to press Taylor against the elevator’s glass and slide his hand up his faux leather skirt right then and there.

As it was, he just barely managed to contain himself until they made it to their room. It took Taylor only two tries with the key card to open the door, and once he had, Zac scurried into the room and threw himself across the nearest bed, not even bothering to attempt to remove his own high heeled shoes first. He struggled to kick them off as he propped himself up on his elbows and watched Taylor sashay into the room. 

“Just stay there,” Taylor said, leaning over to help Zac remove the left shoe and in the process giving him a clear view straight down the v-neck of his shirt. 

Once Zac’s shoes were safely removed, one of Taylor’s appeared on the bed, the pointy heel of it digging into the blanket. Zac’s eyes trailed up the leg attached to it, widening as he realized what he revealing view he had. From that position, he could nearly see all the way up to the fancy clips holding Taylor’s hose into place. Taylor’s hands vanished for a moment, and he bit his lip in what Zac assumed was concentration. Seconds later, his hands appeared again, easing the lace hose down his thigh. Once he reached his ankles, he removed both hose and shoe in one slick maneuver, then switched legs and repeated the entire process.

Not caring how shameless it made him look, Zac wiggled out of his own hose and panties with far less grace. He nudged the tight skirt of his dress upward until his dick sprang free and he could wrap his hand around it. He tugged ruthlessly, though he didn’t truly want to get himself off yet; he simply needed a little relief, relief that Taylor wasn’t yet offering him.

Instead, Taylor was taking his time peeling off his own shirt and running his hands up and down his chest. It was shaved clean, unlike Zac’s, and that combined with the bra he wore left Zac feeling more confused about his attraction to his brother than he ever had. 

“Taylor, please,” Zac whined out, hoping for a distraction from such confusing thoughts. He could sort out his sexuality crisis in the morning over a hangover. Right then, the only thing that mattered was the erection he could see straining against Taylor’s skirt.

As if he had read his brother’s mind, Taylor reached for the zipper on the side of his skirt and let it fall to the floor. He stepped out of it and crawled onto the bed, coming to kneel over Zac and giving his own dick a squeeze through his baby blue satin panties. 

“Are you sure you want this?” Taylor asked, and there was no question that _this_ referred to the throbbing erection he held in his hands.

Zac could do little more than nod and lick his lips, which made Taylor laugh softly. 

Rather than say anything further, Taylor lowered himself onto Zac and nudged his dress up further until Zac took the hint and pulled it over his own head. That left him in nothing but the bra, but somehow, he didn’t feel as exposed as he expected to. The way Taylor eyed him as he lowered his mouth onto his dick eased any worries he might have had, and when Taylor pulled back to suck on his own finger, Zac forgot the very definition of the word worry.

Zac sucked in a deep breath and spread his legs, watching intently as Taylor eased his finger into him again. It slipped in with a little more ease this time, although he suspected that Taylor’s lips on the base of his dick helped to soften the blow, as it were. 

“Tell me,” Taylor breathed out as he pressed a second finger against him, not quite slipping inside, just teasing, “tell me when you’re ready.”

“How—how will I know?” Zac asked, the words coming out with a nervous giggle.

Taylor smiled up at him, not at all mockingly, and for that Zac was very grateful. “When you can’t think about anything else. When it’s all you want. When you can practically already _feel_ me inside of you.”

“I—I can’t—” Zac began, the words dying in a tiny whimper when Taylor’s second finger slipped inside. 

Taylor flicked his wrist and Zac saw stars. He tried to keep his eyes open, to see what Taylor looked like between his legs, but it was already too much to handle. His brother’s tongue was lapping at his balls, inching lower and lower, and Zac was certain he would die of pleasure before he ever knew what it felt like to have Taylor inside of him.

 _Taylor inside of him_ \--the thought alone was enough to make Zac’s dick jump of its own accord, a familiar ache building low in his stomach. 

“Tay,” he said, reaching out to grasp desperately at Taylor’s hair. “Please, I—now. I need you now, to—to fuck me.”

Taylor pulled back and knelt between Zac’s legs, nudging his panties down just enough to let his dick spring free. He gave it a few lazy tugs, the tip already slick with pre-come that he spread up his length with his motions. He lowered himself onto Zac, guiding his dick into the place his hand had occupied only moments ago, and Zac gasped at the feel of it, briefly wondering if he had gotten in over his head. Taylor’s dick was easily as large as his own, and Zac had had no practice at this—surely it would hurt, if it were even anatomically possible.

“I love you,” Taylor said softly, applying the tiniest bit of pressure against Zac’s entrance.

“I love you, too,” Zac replied automatically, his fears and worries once again eased. 

It did, however, hurt, when Taylor rolled his hips and slid the first inch or so in. Zac wouldn’t dare admit it, though, and did his best to keep his face and breathing neutral as he adjusted to the feeling of Taylor’s cock inside of him. 

That thought—that realization of what they were doing set fire to Zac’s body, from head to toe, and he let out a long sigh. All his muscles seemed to finally relax as he did so, and Taylor slid the rest of the way in with much more ease. 

“God, you—” Taylor began, then shook his head. He reached down to run his hand across Zac’s cheek. “You look so good. You _feel_ so good.”

Zac felt his face heating up. “I don’t know about the—the one, but if I look good, it’s because… of you.”

“No, no… you’re beautiful no matter what.” Taylor shook his head, then reached down to fondle the bra that contained more padding than actual breast. “Although, I do like this look on you. Mostly… mostly the way you look under me.”

“Tay,” Zac breathed out, certain he was blushing from head to toe.

“Yeah?”

“Just… just shut up and fuck me. _Please._ ”

“I am never going to get tired of hearing you say that,” Taylor replied, chuckling softly, but obliging him with a harsh roll of his hips that made Zac squeak in both pleasure and pain.

Zac’s vision grew blurry again, and although he wanted to watch the way Taylor’s bottom lip quivered as he thrust in and out, he found it increasingly difficult to focus. He wanted to wrap a hand around his own dick, too, but found that difficult as well. His eyes fell shut and he seemed to lose all control over his body, all his motor functions focused on one spot and one sensation. 

After what felt like ages, Taylor’s hand grasped Zac’s dick and began to stroke him in a rhythm that closely mirrored the one his hips were setting. Zac felt his legs creep up and wrap around Taylor’s calves of their own accord, and belatedly realized that his arms were wrapped around Taylor’s body as well, his fingernails digging in so deep that he was sure they would leave marks on his brother’s back. 

Taylor didn’t seem to care or even notice. His eyes were trained on Zac as his hips and hand worked in tandem to bring both of them closer and closer to the edge. Zac let one hand creep up to the back of Taylor’s neck and pulled him down for a sloppy kiss, hoping Taylor didn’t mind that he was too far gone to be all that good.

Judging by the way Taylor moaned against his mouth, he didn’t mind at all. His hand fell away from Zac’s dick as he collapsed on top of him, but Zac didn’t mind at all. He was already there, a heavy wave of pleasure overtaking him as his orgasm worked its way through his body, leaving stream after stream of sticky come plastering both of their stomachs.

Taylor followed seconds later, the warmth of it inside of him taking Zac by surprise and the tremor that wracked Taylor’s body the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Zac wanted to lay in Taylor’s arms forever, but he could feel stickiness coating in him places he hardly even wanted to think about. When Taylor finally fell away from him, panting, Zac excused himself to the bathroom, where he murmured an apology to housekeeping before grabbing a towel and attempting to clean himself up. 

He couldn’t help but look at himself in the mirror, and was a bit startled to remember that he was still wearing Taylor’s bra, although one strap hung limply on his bicep. It took a little maneuvering to remove it, and he placed it carefully on the counter before leaning in to scrutinize his face. His makeup was similarly worse for the wear, copper and brick red smeared all around his lips with just a hint of the bright coral Taylor had worn mixed in. He grabbed a discarded washcloth and did his best to clean off what remained, although dark streaks stayed under his eyes no matter how hard he tried.

It would have to do, Zac decided, grabbing another towel as almost an afterthought before he left the room. He walked out and, with a sheepish expression, tossed the towel onto Taylor’s stomach.

Taylor accepted it with a smile and a slight blush on his cheeks, which still bore some makeup as well. After toweling his stomach off, he stood and rubbed one eye. Zac lowered himself onto the bed carefully, watching his brother curiously as he dug through his suitcase, his ass perfectly on display as he bent over it.

A moment later, he emerged with a small package of wet wipes, with which he easily removed all traces of the night from his face. He approached the bed with a fresh one in his hand, brushing Zac’s hair back gently. 

“Do you mind?” Taylor said, and Zac shook his head. “It’s just, I’d say we’ve made enough of a mess in here. Let’s not leave makeup all over the pillowcases, too.”

“I would say that’s the least of our concerns,” Zac mumbled, but nevertheless closed his eyes and allowed Taylor to gently wipe off the makeup he had so expertly applied just hours before.

There was something about the tender way Taylor treated him, his attentiveness and care in all things, that made a strange pain settle in Zac’s chest. It wasn’t a bad pain, exactly—similar, somehow to the pain he had felt when Taylor slipped inside of him, he realized. One that seemed to burn something else away and leave room for only pleasure afterward. 

He wanted to express this to Taylor somehow, but didn’t know how to begin or if it would even make sense. Perhaps he was still drunk, Zac thought. Maybe he would try to explain it in the morning. Rather than speak, he simply held out his arms and smiled contentedly as Taylor climbed into them. He pressed a kiss to Taylor’s forehead, letting his lips linger for a moment, and hoping that kiss said all that he didn’t know how to say in words.


	31. Underwater

The trip to Fort Worth had flown by, seeming more like a dream than something that had really happened to him. It made Zac’s real life back in Austin look even more mundane by comparison, and only served to highlight how much more he wanted. He didn’t know what that more might be, but he knew it wasn’t endless college classes and a life in musty old lecture halls. A taste of the glamorous life that Taylor was on the fringes of had only left him thirsty for more.

It didn’t help that as soon as they returned to campus, the due date for his thesis proposal began looming over his head, like a rock teetering on the edge of a cliff, poised to crush him. He had skipped several classes and even canceled a meeting with Dr. Gould, but now Zac knew there was no escaping it. Thankfully, he had managed to sleepwalk through most of the research—he knew Oklahoma folk art like the back of his hand—and it took only a few afternoons hard at work in the library to produce a decent enough draft.

“Done already?” Melissa asked as Zac walked by the circulation desk, freshly printed proposal draft in hand.

He shrugged. “It’s as good as it’s going to get. Plus, I need to drop it off before Dr. Gould leaves campus for the day.”

“And then pizza and beer at your place to celebrate? I’ll buy.”

“Sure,” Zac replied. “I think Taylor is working late, but there’s an extra key under the doormat if you get there before he does.” 

Melissa smiled. “I’m out of here in T-minus fifteen minutes and counting. So I’ll see you there.”

“See ya,” Zac replied, leaning it to give her a friendly peck on the cheek. “Thanks for everything, Melly.”

After a quick walk across campus, Zac found himself knocking on Dr. Gould’s door. There was something of a surprised look on the professor’s face when he ushered Zac in, and Zac supposed that was to be expected, considering how poor of a student he had been lately. He probably deserved worse than that; he certainly felt like he did, anyway.

“I, uh, I just wanted to turn this in—” Zac stuttered out, holding out the stack of papers that comprised what would be the rest of his graduate career. He couldn’t honestly say the topic was all that interesting to him, but few things seemed to hold his attention at all. He couldn’t really remember the last time he was passionate about anything—anything aside from his brother, at least, and for all the things Taylor might have been, a dissertation topic was not one of them.

“Good, good,” the professor said, taking the papers from Zac and motioning for him to have a seat. He did so, and waited patiently while Dr. Gould cleared his throat and shuffled through a few other papers. “I had been meaning to get in touch; we need to sort out your schedule for the next semester. It will be mostly focused on your dissertation, of course, but I thought you would be interested in perhaps picking up a folklore class this summer. They’re covering indigenous culture, which might overlap nicely with your study of Oklahoman folk art. Not to mention, it will fulfill one of your requirements for something outside of your program.”

Dr. Gould thrust a list of course descriptions into Zac’s hands, but the words on the page seemed to swim and blur. Zac couldn’t focus on them at all, and he had the distinct sensation of being pulled underwater and held there, unable to breathe. He had thought, eventually, that college would cease to feel that way. It had not.

“Actually,” Zac said, his voice not sounding like his own at all. “I’m not sure I’ll be taking any classes this summer. Some time off might be good.”

Dr. Gould nodded, something in his expression suggesting that he was waiting for something, waiting for Zac to say something else. 

“And I’m not… well, I’m not sure I want to come back in the fall anyway.” 

If Dr. Gould had looked shocked to see Zac, he looked the exact opposite at Zac’s declaration of his intent to drop out. Zac was shocked enough for the both of them, he realized. He had not known, until he said the words, that he truly did not want to stay in grad school. It was the truth, though, a truth that he had been running from for weeks, if not longer.

“Well, then. I think it’s good you’ve come to this decision now before you’ve gone any further. Do you have other plans for after you leave?”

“No,” Zac replied, shaking his head. That should have terrified him, but somehow it didn’t.

“Perhaps for now, simply taking a break can be your plan. You’re a bright young man, so I don’t mean to imply that you couldn’t hack it in grad school. It simply isn’t for everyone—it isn’t that _you_ were wrong for it, so much as _it_ was wrong for _you_.”

“Yes, that’s—I think that’s exactly my problem. I like _creating_ art. Maybe it’s not too late to go back and study that instead, but I think… well, frankly I think I’ll go insane if I stay here any longer.”

Dr. Gould nodded, then gave Zac a soft smile. “I hope not. Take the time you need to get your mind in order, and if you choose to return to grad school—whether here, elsewhere, in a different program, whatever—you’ll have my support. I will give your proposal the attention it deserves, of course, but I will also see to it that we get your paperwork in order as soon as possible. Good luck in whatever you choose for the future.”

Zac nodded. “Thank you. I know I haven’t been the easiest student to advise.”

“You’re welcome,” Dr. Gould replied, looking for a moment as though he might agree with Zac’s assessment. Instead, he asserted, “I only want the best for all of my students, whatever the best for them may be.”

After exchanging a few more parting words and pleasantries that barely penetrated the fog inside Zac’s mind, he finally found himself in the hallway again, his back to Dr. Gould’s door. He had done it. He hadn’t truly even known he was planning to do it, but now the worst was over. 

No, that wasn’t true, he realized. The hardest part was just beginning, because he still needed a plan for the future. 

But that could wait. For now, it was time to celebrate his freedom. It wasn’t exactly what he had expected to celebrate with Taylor and Melly that night, but it would do. He could only imagine what the two of them would say, but he hoped they would be proud of him. With that thought in mind, Zac managed to collect himself enough to walk back to the lot where he had parked his car and drive the short distance back to his apartment.

He wasn’t surprised to see Melissa’s car in the apartment complex’s lot. A smile spread across his face and he took the steps two at a time, giving the door a nudge to see if she had left it unlocked. She had, and he pushed it wide open. 

“Melly!” He called out, peeking into the kitchen to see her stretching to reach plates on the top shelf. He hurried into the room, and reached easily over her head to retrieve them. “Saw your car. You beat me here, huh?”

“Sure did. I was starting to think the pizza would, too; I ordered it from my cell phone before I left the library. Something about these Friday afternoon shifts makes me so hungry and I just couldn’t wait.”

Zac chuckled. “That’s okay; I’m kinda hungry, too. And when Tay gets here, I--”

A knock on the door interrupted Zac’s statement, but he wasn’t all that upset. He didn’t want to make such a big deal about dropping out, anyway, even if it did feel like it called for something of a celebration.

“That must be the pizza,” he said, handing Melissa the plates. “I’ll get it.”

“I told you I would pay!” She called out as he scurried away to answer the door.

Zac turned to shout something back at her as he opened the door, but once again found himself interrupted.

“Good evening, sweetie.”

“Mom?” Zac said, spinning around again to see both of his parents standing in the doorway of his apartment. 

“I know it’s a last-minute surprise, but we were on our way to visit Aunt Sherrie in Corpus Christi—I’m sure we told you about that—and we had to stop for the night. So it just seemed logical to stop here, but of course, we have a hotel room. At the Country Inn where we stayed when you came down here for that first college visit, remember? We wanted to see you, but we know you don’t have a lot of room to spare.”

“Looks like he’s got even less spare room than we thought,” his father remarked, nodding toward a suspiciously sparkly and feminine jacket on the back of a chair. 

“I—uh—well, you see,” Zac stuttered out, seeing no way out of the corner his parents had backed him into.

“Oh, that’s mine,” Melissa said.

Zac spun around and gaped at her, finding himself even more speechless, if it were even possible.

“And who is this young lady?” Diana asked.

“This is—I mean—umm, Melissa Darby.” Zac scratched the back of his head, wishing the room would stop spinning.

Melissa stepped forward and shook each of his parents’ hands. “It’s so nice to meet you two. Zac has been such a sweetheart this semester. When my boyfriend dumped me and moved out, I couldn’t afford my apartment anymore, and he took me in. Saved my life.”

His parents turned to look at him, presumably for confirmation of her story. Zac could only shrug and offer them a half-smile. Melissa had, in fact, just saved his life, and the fact that she had stolen much of Taylor’s story to do so was not lost on Zac at all.

“Why don’t you guys come on in?” Melissa said, ushering the two of them toward the kitchen. “We’re only having pizza for dinner, but I’d love the chance to chat with you two more. I bet you’ve got some great stories about Zac when he was little.”

Zac could only groan in response to that. After his parents had crossed into the kitchen, Melissa gave Zac a sheepish smile.

“I think I will let you pay for the pizza. You owe me now.”

“I definitely do,” Zac replied, shaking his head. “You should be an actress. You are way too good of a liar.”

Melissa just shrugged and gave him another smile, then scurried away. Only a few seconds later, he could hear both her and his mother laughing, and he hardly even wanted to know. 

His head was still spinning when the pizza arrived, and he didn’t even know if he had managed to count out the correct change. Given how quickly the delivery boy scurried away, Zac had a sneaking suspicion he had given an oversized tip, but he hardly even cared. That sinking feeling had come back over him, but for an entirely different reason, and he knew it would stay until his parents had left.

He probably should have stopped to consider what that feeling said about his parents, but Zac had a feeling he wouldn’t like the conclusions it led him to. Instead, he just steeled himself and walked into the kitchen, trying his best not to drop the pizza boxes.

“Oh, Zac,” his mother said, setting down her glass of lemonade when he appeared. “This one is a real winner. I like her.”

“I like her, too,” Zac replied sheepishly, knowing that he didn’t mean it in anything remotely resembling what his mother had implied. He didn’t dare meet Melissa’s eyes to see what she thought. He would owe her more than just a few pizzas after this, he realized.

He set about distributing plates and pizza while Melissa dove back into a story about some of her strangest experiences volunteering at a public library during the summer. It was a funny story, and she had a wonderfully animated way of telling it—probably to distract from how awkward the entire situation was—but Zac couldn’t find it in himself to laugh the way his parents did.

Their laughter was so loud, in fact, that none of them heard the door open yet again. It must have, though, because Zac nearly dropped his plate when he heard a fifth voice speak.

“Did someone order pizza?” 

Taylor. It was Taylor, because that was just Zac’s luck.

The room went entirely silent, and Zac wished that metaphorical wave would swallow him up completely.


	32. Like a Stranger

The only sound in the room was the dull thud of Diana’s glass coming to rest on the table again. Zac wished the floor would open up and swallow him like a black hole. He should have known this farce would fail him in some way; of course, in their relief that they had diverted his parents’ suspicion, both he and Melissa had forgotten to inform Taylor so that he could avoid the apartment until their parents had left.

On the other hand, they _were_ still his parents too, estranged or not. 

Zac knew that, deep down, Taylor had wanted him to confront them and tell them the truth—or, at least, a portion of it. He had wanted Zac to stand up to them and let them know that Taylor was back in his life, whether they liked it or not.

Zac was reasonably certain that this was not how Taylor had foreseen that happening.

“Mom. Dad,” Taylor breathed out, sounding much more like a small child than like the strong, bulletproof twenty six year old man he seemed to be. Zac was quickly realizing that it was only a façade, and for as much a Taylor wanted Zac to confront their parents, neither of them had really thought through the consequences of that.

While Zac felt himself shattering at Taylor’s voice, neither of their parents seemed to react at all. Taylor might as well have been a complete stranger to them, and Zac had to wonder if that was an act or truly how they felt. He didn’t think he wanted to know the answer.

“Well,” Walker finally said, clearing his throat. “I think we need to get back to the hotel. It’s been a long day.”

“I think we should really talk about—” Taylor began, his voice becoming stronger as he spoke. Zac wanted to stand by his side, offer him some amount of support, but he found that his feet would not move.

Diana shook her head and held up a hand to stop him. “I really don’t think _we_ have anything to say to each other.”

She shot Zac a glance that he had no difficulty interpreting. He would be the one answering for this. He would be the one answering for this betrayal of values his parents had assumed he shared with them. He would be the one explaining what the black sheep of the family was doing in his apartment. He would bear the burden of this.

It was the last he could do, Zac reasoned, after all that Taylor had suffered at their parents’ hands. He managed a small nod in acknowledgement of that, and then next time he glanced up, his parents were gone, leaving no trace that they had ever been there, aside from half-empty glasses and plates of untouched pepperoni pizza.

Melissa stood up and wordlessly filled a plate with pizza. She opened her mouth to speak, then shook her head and simply walked away. A moment later Zac heard the thud of what he assumed was his bedroom door closing.

At that, his legs finally saw fit to move again, but carried him only far enough to collapse in the nearest chair. 

Taylor still stood frozen in the doorway. He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m going to assume you didn’t invite them here.”

“No,” Zac replied, shaking his head. “They were—they stopped by on the way to Aunt Sherrie’s.”

Taylor nodded softly, which only seemed to enhance the dazed expression on his face. 

“I didn’t… I mean, it just took us by surprise. I wasn’t going to tell them anything—about, about us, I mean. Melissa tried to help cover for us, but we just…” Zac trailed off. He didn’t even know why he was talking. Did Taylor want him to tell them the truth? He didn’t know anymore.

Without another word, Taylor went straight to the refrigerator and retrieved a beer. He watched as Taylor chugged what appeared to be half the bottle before turning back to face him. 

“You know,” Taylor said, “I’ve spent years—fucking years—wondering what they would do, if I ever saw them again. Even if I had managed to make something of myself, I knew it wouldn’t be enough for them to be proud of me. But I guess I just thought that somehow, after all this time, they would have changed. Not completely, but maybe enough to have a civil conversation with, even if it didn’t mean we’d mended all fences. But what I never expected was for them to look at me like I was a complete stranger. Like I meant nothing to them. Like I—like I _was_ nothing.”

His voice cracked on the last word and Zac sprang from his chair to sweep Taylor up in his arms.

“You’re not nothing, Tay,” Zac said softly. “You’re my brother. You’re mine. Whatever they think or don’t think about you, it doesn’t matter. We’ve got each other, and I know the real you. And I love the real you.”

“But it’s not—I’m sorry, you know it’s not the same.”

“I do,” Zac replied honestly, nodding.

Taylor pulled back and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Of course you know. It’s why you’ve tried to be everything they wanted you to be, and I am so sorry for judging for you that. I do understand it, even if I couldn’t ever do it myself. But it’ll kill you, Zac. It’ll eat you up inside until you’re just as hollow and heartless as they are, and I don’t ever want you to be like that.”

“Well, I think it’s safe to say any chances of me being like them have been blown to hell now,” Zac remarked. “I mean, I’m going to have to talk to them. Even if it’s the last time I ever do.”

Taylor looked as though he might disagree with Zac’s assessment of how their parents would react to whatever explanation he gave them. Then he seemed to think better of it and shook his head. “I know it would just be worse if I were there for moral support, but I’m going to make the offer anyway.”

“You’re probably right that it wouldn’t help,” Zac replied, then gave Taylor a gentle kiss on the cheek. “But I really, really appreciate the offer. More than you know. But let’s not think about it; I’ll deal with it all tomorrow. Right now, I just want some pizza and beer, and to pass out in bed next to you.”

As if to punctuate his statement, his stomach gave a loud growl. Taylor laughed, then replied, “Well, I think all of those things can be arranged. Let me pop a couple slices in the microwave; you still don’t like cold pizza, do you?”

“I don’t,” Zac replied, hating the little catch in his voice that gave away how it made him feel to know that Taylor remembered so many little details about him.

He began clearing away the evidence of their parents’ short visit while Taylor popped a few slices into the microwave. It had just dinged when Melissa appeared around the corner and cleared her throat nervously.

“Sorry,” she squeaked out, her plate clattering loudly as she placed it in the sink. “I didn’t—I mean, I hope I didn’t make things even more awkward.”

Taylor and Zac both shook their heads almost in unison, then Zac laughed nervously. “No, you tried. You did the best you could, and I really, really appreciate it.”

“I just hate that it ruined what was supposed to be a good night. Celebrating the end of the semester and everything. Which reminds me, Zac, didn’t you say you had something to tell us or something?”

Zac felt the blood leave his face. He had begun to tell Melissa about dropping out, but now it seemed like that decision had been made in an entirely different world. He realized he would need to confess that to his parents, too. He might as well, since he assumed he wouldn’t hear from them again after he defended Taylor to them. Dropping out would be the least of his sins.

But perhaps it wasn’t time to drop that bomb just yet.

He shook his head. “No, I’m just happy to be done with my thesis proposal. That’s all.”

Melissa looked as though she didn’t quite buy that explanation, but nevertheless she nodded her head and gave Zac a weak smile. “Well, I think I’ll go on back to my place. You two probably have… umm, a lot to talk about. Again—sorry. I just wish there was more I could do.”

“You’ve already done more than you know,” Taylor replied, reaching out to ouch her arm. “We’re both lucky we stumbled onto you; we must have both known, somehow, that you were someone who would understand—even before there was really anything _to_ understand.”

Melissa shrugged, her smile turning a bit more sheepish. “I read a lot. Readers are—well, I was going to say weird, but open-minded. And weird, too, I guess.”

Zac laughed, then leaned in and gave Melissa a kiss on the forehead. “Seriously, thanks for everything. I’ll stop buy tomorrow and take you out to lunch. I think I’m going to owe you for a while.”

“I get off at one,” she replied, then stepped to Taylor and craned to reach up and kiss his cheek. “And I’ll see you in a few days, because I need to pick up some more of my mascara.”

“See you later, Mel,” Taylor replied. 

Neither of them spoke again until the door had shut behind her. Zac slowly turned back to face Taylor, but saw that Taylor had turned his back again and was pushing buttons on the microwave. He stepped in closer and wrapped his arms around Taylor’s waist softly, only making him jump a little.

“This is going to be okay, somehow,” Zac said softly. “I know that’s easy for me to say, because I never went through what you went through with them.”

“Well, I hate to say it, but I’m afraid it’s your turn now.”

Zac heaved a sigh. “I know. And I know it won’t come close to compensating you for what you went through, but I’m willing to take my turn.”

“Don’t say it like that,” Taylor replied, spinning around. “You don’t owe me any sort of penance or anything. If I could go through this for you, I would.”

“And even if you could, I wouldn’t let you.”

“You know we could go around in circles like this forever,” Taylor remarked.

Zac chuckled softly. “We are both pretty stubborn, aren’t we? I just know I have to do this. I have to get through this, and then things will be okay for us. They have to be.”

“I hope you’re right,” Taylor replied. The microwave beeped again and he practically jumped out of Zac’s arms as he spun around to retrieve their pizza, which by then had to be piping hot.

Zac hoped he was right, too. He would have to go see their parents tomorrow, before they got back on the road. He would have to find some words to say to them, to explain that Taylor was in his life now, whether they liked it or not. What would have happened after that… he couldn’t even begin to guess. 

He had thought that dropping out would fix his problems, but of course, it had only created even more. Even if those problems couldn’t truly be attributed to his decision, Zac couldn’t help feeling like he had set this chain of events into motion somehow. One small act of selfishness had created a ripple effect in the universe.


	33. Two Disappointments

Zac was glad that Taylor left early the next morning for his shift at the mall. It meant the two of them didn’t have a chance to rehash the horror the day would hold for Zac.

Maybe horror was an exaggeration. But maybe not.

He really didn’t know what to expect, but he knew he had no choice but to meet with his parents. There was an IHOP next to their hotel, according to the text from his mother that seemed far too friendly considering how icy she had been the night before, and he didn’t waste time making his way there to meet them. The longer he dwelt, the easier it would be to convince himself not to show up at all.

The restaurant was busy at that time of day, but Zac was still easily able to find his parents’ table. His dad was nursing a cup of coffee, looking like he hadn’t slept at all, and his mother was talking quietly—until she spotted Zac. The hint of a smile at whatever she had been talking about left her lips entirely, and they set themselves in a straight line even as she stood up to give Zac a hug. He wondered if she knew how easily her expression gave away how she really felt.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said as she motioned for him to sit, “we went ahead and ordered for you—the blueberry pancakes, right?”

Zac nodded, but he honestly couldn’t remember the last time that had been his order. The contrast between that and how well Taylor remembered every single one of Zac’s preferences was not lost on him, and it made his stomach turn. It wouldn’t matter what his parents had ordered; he wouldn’t be able to eat a single bite.

He had hoped his parents would wait until they had eaten to begin the interrogation, but he knew he would have no such luck when his father placed his coffee cup decisively on the table and gave him a hard stare.

“I don’t know what you’re expecting me to say,” Zac said, and that was the truth. As much as he had tried to prepare himself for this, he had no explanation that they would accept for why Taylor was back in his life.

“You could begin with why you’ve been lying to us,” Diana suggested.

“I haven’t lied,” Zac replied instinctively. In spite of his parents’ twin skeptical expressions, he continued, “Lied by omission, maybe. Because okay, I didn’t tell you that Taylor was here in Austin. You didn’t ask, and it wasn’t exactly something I could just bring up in a normal conversation.”

“That is a distinction without a difference and you know it,” Diana replied.

“Don’t you think we needed to know about this?” Walker asked, his tone only slightly more reasonable than his wife’s.

Zac shrugged helplessly. “We’re both adults now. I didn’t think you would like it, but no, I didn’t think you actually _needed_ to know.”

“We are still your parents, and yes, we are allowed to have an opinion on you choosing to associate with—with—”

Zac held up a hand before his mother could finish that sentence. He didn’t want to know what word she might have chosen, particularly considering the fact that it likely would have applied to him, too. “And what would you have said or done if I told you? Forbidden me to see him like I was still a teenager under your control? Actually, I don’t want to know your answer to that, either.”

“Good. I don’t think you would like that answer very much,” Diana nearly spat out.

Walker placed a hand on her arm as the waitress approached with their food. The three of them remained silent until she had departed. Zac couldn’t even bear to look at his pancakes.

Diana took a few timid bites of her crepes before looking back up at Zac. “While you are legally an adult, you are still our son. We care about you, and we are allowed to have an opinion about the decisions you make. And if we think those decisions are poor, then yes, we are allowed to tell you that and try to steer you in a better direction.”

On the surface, Zac knew that what she said was true and reasonable. He didn’t really feel like an adult most of the time, certainly not one capable of making good choices and handling his life well. But there was one aspect of what his mother had said that made him feel like the lump in his stomach had turned into a black hole. 

“Taylor is still your son, too,” Zac said weakly, his voice so low that he wasn’t sure his parents would even hear what he had said.

“Taylor made his bed years ago,” Diana replied, her tone so icy that it almost shocked Zac.

“He wasn’t even eighteen yet,” Zac shot back. “At least you waited until he was to officially kick him out, but you know as well as I do that that’s what it was. He didn’t leave of his own free will, just go off to college and never come back. He didn’t. You know he didn’t.”

“I wasn’t talking about that,” Diana said. She looked as though she wanted to say more, then gave a slight head shake and went back to her crepe.

“Look, son,” Walker began, “the lifestyle your brother chose—he knew it was incompatible with our beliefs, with what should have been his beliefs, too. He knew what he had to do to be a part of our family, and he wasn’t willing to do that.”

“What, be someone he wasn’t?” Zac asked, then shook his head. “I didn’t come here to argue religion with you. If you want to believe that being gay is something Taylor could just… could just choose to turn on or off, then I don’t know what to tell you. The fact that you would ask that of him is almost worse than just disowning him. Even if you can’t accept it, just let him be who he is.”

“You’re right,” Walker said. “We didn’t come here to talk about religion, either. We came here to talk about the bad choices we think you’re making and what we’re going to do about those.”

“How did this even happen, Zachary?” Diana asked, her tone somewhere between judgmental and desperate. “How did he find you? Why would you let him into your life now, after all this time?”

Zac took a shaky breath and ran a hand through his hair. “I never wanted him out of my life. That was a choice you made for me, without my input. You can say it was Taylor’s choice all you want, but you backed him against a wall and forced him to make an impossible decision. And I don’t blame him at all for what he did, but I lost my brother because of it. There hasn’t been a moment, in all that time, that I haven’t wanted him back, but you erased all trace of him. I had no clue where to look. It was just coincidence—fate, maybe—that we both ended up here and stumbled upon each other.”

There were a few details omitted from that version of the truth, Zac supposed, but it _was_ the truth. 

“So you approve of his lifestyle?” Walker asked.

“Does it matter? He’s my brother. I love him.” Zac found himself choked up at the last sentence, and he hoped that didn’t reveal more than he wanted it to. Could it possibly, though? Was there any way his parents could possibly guess the true nature of his relationship with Taylor? Surely not.

“As long as we’re supporting you financially, helping you with grad school, then yes. It matters whether or not you are living the sort of life we can support.” Walker stared him down, his eyes narrowed slightly.

This was it. This was his escape route, the loophole his parents wouldn’t see coming. It was also, he knew, the end of his relationship with them. 

“Then you’ll be glad to know that I dropped out yesterday. I’ll finish this semester out, but after that, I’m not your burden any longer. I’ll find a way to support myself, and you can find a way to explain to all of your church friends that you raised not one but two disappointments.”

Diana’s eyes widened. “So you’re choosing to support him—over us.”

“No,” Zac replied, shaking his head and standing up. “I’m not choosing anything. Just like you did to Taylor, you’re not giving me any options. You think you are, but you’re not. I love him. That’s something I can’t change. And I love you guys too--you’re still my parents, no matter what. But Taylor needs me. He needs someone in his life who will love him unconditionally, like a family should. I can’t choose _not_ to feel that way, not to act on it. So I’m sorry, but yes, I suppose from where you sit—I’m choosing him over you. I’m sorry.”

Zac stood up and walked away before they could respond to that. There was no point in hanging around; they wouldn’t convince him to turn back to them and abandon Taylor. He knew they might never forgive him for this, but he also knew it was the right choice. 

_Choice_. As if he or Taylor had ever had one. As if they could turn their feelings on or off at will, just because they went against what their parents’ religion taught. The only religion Zac knew taught forgiveness and acceptance—not how to abandon your sons because they happen not to believe that homosexuality is a sin.

Zac suddenly found himself leaning against his car, not even remembering having walked out of the restaurant. He shook his head. The man and woman he had just walked out on bore no resemblance to the parents he thought loved and supported him. They were so callous and so cold. It wasn’t such a loss to cut them out of his life, he decided. 

He threw open the car door and sank down into his seat. He might regret this decision later, Zac thought to himself. Maybe. But for right then, it felt as though the last remaining weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Like the anchor had been untied and he could finally swim back to the surface. 

He started his car and headed back to campus, deciding that he would spend the rest of the day in the studio, finishing a few pieces he hoped the museum would buy. That would keep his mind occupied so that he wouldn’t have time to think about what he had just done.


	34. Invincible

Zac had resolved to spend the rest of the day hidden in the studio on campus. There was no reason to attend classes for the rest of the semester, he told himself, since he wouldn’t be returning for the following semester anyway. He didn’t particularly like the idea of failing all of his classes on purpose, but again, he reasoned that it didn’t matter at all. These would be his last college classes ever, and whether you dropped out with all As or straight Fs, it amounted to the same sort of failure in Zac’s mind.

He was aware that his logic was probably seriously flawed, but at the moment, he found that he really didn’t care at all.

There was a chance of running into a professor or two and plenty of students in the studio, but they weren’t likely to be any that he knew by more than sight alone. And they certainly wouldn’t know him, either. He could be anonymous, and he found that he really liked that.

Plus, he wouldn’t be lying if he said he was on campus. He just wasn’t actually in class.

It had occurred to Zac, when he briefly ventured across campus to grab a sandwich and a coffee for lunch, that he still hadn’t had a chance to tell Taylor or Melissa about his decision. He had a feeling that would be a big hurdle to overcome, but he would deal with it in his own time. The destruction his parents had left in their wake had meant that all of his other plans had fallen by the wayside, to be dealt with once he remembered how to breathe. 

As it was, he didn’t really feel like he had come up for a breath all day. He had been right; painting was the perfect distraction from everything that had threatened to consume his mind. Once Zac allowed himself to get into the zone, he could think of nothing else but the canvases in front of him. In that sort of zone, he was able to make quite a bit of progress, littering the studio with nearly complete paintings that told the story of his growing relationship with Taylor.

He was vaguely aware of how incriminating his preferred subject matter was, but much like his indifference toward his classes, Zac found that he really didn’t care. The only person who knew the truth had nothing to gain from telling anyone, and who would believe her, anyway? 

“Wow,” a voice breathed out, and Zac felt his heart leap into his throat. “Someone’s been hard at work.”

Zac spun around to see Taylor leaning against the doorframe. Once his heart had slowed back to its normal pace, he asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Well, you didn’t answer your phone,” Taylor replied, taking a few steps into the room. “I know you went to talk to them this morning, and I couldn’t help thinking that something awful had happened. I mean, I don’t know what I even thought—like, maybe they had kidnapped you or something. Convinced you to leave. I don’t know, but I know I’m an idiot. Anyway, I finally texted Melissa during my last break and she said she’d seen you carrying some Starbucks in here around lunch time. So I came over here as soon as I got off work. Didn’t you have class this afternoon?”

Zac stood but did not step closer to Taylor. He tried to process all of the disconnected thoughts Taylor had just shared, one in particular standing out above the rest. “Did you really think I would run back to their side?”

“No,” Taylor replied, and Zac could see the honesty in his eyes. “I mean, maybe for a second I wondered. But I know you better than that now. I just—I know how persuasive they can be and I know how hard it is to tell your parents no.”

“Well, I did,” Zac said plainly.

“You did?” Taylor asked, his eyes widening a bit. He shook his head. “I just thought you were the good son. That they saw it that way, at least.”

“You’ll be happy to know they don’t have a double standard, then, I guess,” Zac said, finally closing the distance between them and taking Taylor’s hands in his own. “They tried to back me up against a wall like I know they did you. And they had the nerve to act like we had options. Like they had so generously given us a choice. But turning my back on you… I couldn’t. I never could. They didn’t even know me well enough to know that a life without you was something I never wanted.”

“I know it wasn’t,” Taylor replied softly. “I believe you. I do. Suffice it to say, we both have some serious parental issues. Which probably should be a red flag, and would definitely be under any other circumstances, but I guess in a fucked up way, it’s why we’re—well, what we are.”

“Perfect for each other,” Zac finished for him, knowing without a doubt it was what Taylor intended to say.

Taylor chuckled, the sound nearly breaking off into a sob. “Yeah. Something like that.”

“I just—I can’t lose you again. Going through that once was enough. It didn’t matter what they said; it wasn’t an option.”

“I don’t even have words for how much that means to me, Zac. I love you so much.”

“Love you, too,” Zac replied. With a tiny smirk so that Taylor would know he was joking, he added, “but if you start crying and smear the paint on one of these, I might have to eat my words.”

To Zac’s relief, Taylor laughed softy. Wiping his eyes, he said, “Okay, well, I think we’ve earned a nice dinner out together. Can I help you get things cleaned up here?”

Zac nodded and smiled. “If you can help put the paintings away, I’ll clean up the rest of it, all my paints and brushes and everything.”

With both of them at work, it took only a matter of minutes to put the room back into roughly the same condition in which Zac had found it. A few paintings still needed to be left out to dry, but there were inevitably always half-finished projects scattered around on the honor system. The most revealing ones were able to be hidden, at least. 

Surveying the room, Zac briefly wondered if he was insane. Dropping out of grad school to do what… paint semi-pornographic portraits of his brother in drag? It wasn’t much of a career. He knew he would need to find something real to do, something that would provide a more sustainable income than what selling his paintings would do. Even if the first set had all sold easily, he couldn’t count on that to happen again.

“Have I mentioned lately that you are an amazing artist?” Taylor murmured, wrapping his arms around Zac’s waist from behind.

But he could, at least, count on his brother to be supportive, if only emotionally. Zac had a feeling he wouldn’t be so willing to support him financially once he knew the full truth.

“I think you have,” Zac replied, craning his neck a bit to nudge Taylor’s head with his. “But you’re welcome to say it as often as you want.”

Taylor chuckled. “Alright, let’s go, before I give you a serious ego. I was thinking Sao Paolo’s?”

Zac had eaten there once with Carly, but he bit his lip to stop himself from saying that. When was the last time he had even thought of her? He couldn’t remember. That had to be a good sign, he decided, even if there was a tiny pang in his chest at the memory. It faded quickly and didn’t leave him with that lingering empty feeling that had accompanied thoughts of her for so long. 

He had someone else to more than fill the place she once had, he realized. He gave Taylor a smile and a nod, and although Taylor looked a bit confused, he smiled back.

“Sao Paolo’s it is,” Taylor said softly, one of his hands sliding easily into Zac’s. “Come on. I’m parked just around the corner, and they might not have towed my car yet, if we’re lucky.” 

Zac chuckled, his brain hardly even registering how big of a step it was for him to hold Taylor’s hand. After everything with their parents that morning, Zac felt oddly invincible. If he could stand up to them, he could do anything. 

Almost anything.

They had just rounded the corner of the studio when he spotted Shaun walking toward them. Like thoughts of Carly, his old friends had hardly crossed his mind lately. He could see from Shaun’s wide-eyed expression that Drew had kept his word and not told him anything about Zac and Taylor’s relationship. 

“Hey,” Zac said, knowing there was no avoiding him. He felt Taylor try to slip his hand away, but the damage was done; Zac tightened his grip.

“Hey. Long time no see, man,” Shaun replied, sounding dazing. He glanced at Taylor. “you’re uh… Jordan, right?”

“Yeah. Nice to see you again.” Taylor was smiling, but Zac could see the fear in his eyes and feel the slight tremor in his hands. 

Zac wondered if he should be scared, too. It was too late to worry about it; Shaun could draw the obvious conclusions for himself, and whatever he felt about it was up to him. There was nothing Zac could do to change this turn of events.

Shaun’s eyes were trained at a point off in the distance, no doubt trying not to look at his friend clearly holding hands with another man. He cleared his throat. “Well, hey, I’ve gotta run. End of the semester is always crazy with orientations and stuff. But we should get together after finals week—I mean, uh, all of us, I guess. Invite that Melissa chick along, too.”

Zac opened his mouth to protest, then sighed and shrugged. “Yeah, cool. Give me a text or something and let me know when and where.”

He knew, even as he said it, that the text wouldn’t come. He was just grateful that Shaun could keep up the pretense for long enough to exchange pleasantries. Still, Zac had no doubt this was the end of their friendship.

Once he had said goodbye and was out of earshot, Taylor gave Zac’s hand a squeeze and said, ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—put you in that position.”

“I wanted to be there,” Zac replied. ‘I mean, I don’t mind. He doesn’t know—neither does Drew—that you’re my brother. They just think… well, Drew put two and two together and just asked me. Shaun wasn’t as quick, I guess. But the truth—part of it--is out there now.”

“That’s the funny thing about it,” Taylor remarked. “You think coming out is this thing you do once and then it’s over. You’re out. But there are always more people, always new situations, and you always have to explain yourself again.”

“But why? Let people think what they want to think.”

Taylor bit his lip thoughtfully, then shook his head. “It’s not always that easy. I wish it was. And I hope that for you, it is. Not that—I mean, not to make any assumptions about your…”

“I love _you_ ,” Zac replied. “That’s all I know. That’s all I want to know. Maybe I’m just Taylor-sexual.”

“Maybe you are,” Taylor replied, chuckling softly.

Zac pulled his hand free of Taylor’s and instead wrapped it around his waist. Let everyone stare, he thought. Let them think whatever they wanted. He still felt ten foot tall and bulletproof. He had a feeling it wouldn’t last, but while it did, he was going to enjoy it. He could worry about their parents and his future when the bubble finally burst and he floated back down to earth.


	35. Betrayal

For the next few days, Zac continued to spend all of his time on campus, but not actually attending any classes. It was all too easy to slip away at the right times and hide away from the world. He might emerge to get lunch with Melissa, but otherwise he saw no one that would possibly tattle on him.

It was like getting away with the perfect crime, and Zac knew that he should have felt guilty for it. Yet somehow, he didn’t.

It had been a full week since his decision to drop out and other than the tedium of actually filling out all the correct paperwork, Zac could see no downside. Okay, the impending question of what he was going to do with the rest of his life was a downside. But he could deal with that later. Much later.

After finishing up one last painting, he sent a quick text to Taylor asking if he wanted Chinese takeout for dinner. He knew Taylor was already home, but Zac relied on him too do far too much of the cooking. If he was lucky, his text would catch Taylor before he began cooking and Zac could do him this one small favor.

Only a few seconds later, her received a text back with Taylor’s order and what he would have considered an excessive amount of smiley faces had anyone else sent them. But it was Taylor, and in Zac’s eyes, Taylor could do no wrong. 

Zac was vaguely aware that he had swung from one extreme to another in just a few months. Early in the semester, it had been impossible for him to see out of the black hole he was in. Now, with Taylor in his life and college in the rear view mirror, he felt like he was floating on a cloud. He didn’t see any way he could possibly come down, but even as he thought that, he knew it was unrealistic. The absurdity of how he felt wasn’t lost on him, but he loved the feeling too much to dwell on that.

With an almost literal spring in his steps, Zac made his way to the parking lot and drove to the nearest Chinese place, where he proceeded to order double everything Taylor had asked for. It might be more than the two of them could eat, but he found that he didn’t care about that either. 

Only a few minutes later, he was juggling boxes and bags as he struggled to open the apartment door. He began to call out to Taylor, but clamped his mouth shut when he heard Taylor’s soft voice clearly talking to someone that wasn’t him.

“No, I know—it’s just, no. it’s not that simple.”

Something in Taylor’s tone made the hair on the back of Zac’s neck stand up. Belatedly, Zac realized that Taylor was arguing with someone. Zac could think of few options for that, but Taylor’s ex-boyfriend immediately sprang to mind. That only made even more hairs in more parts of Zac’s body stand on end.

“No, I will not talk to him for you, Mom,” Taylor said, the last word coming out in a sigh that almost obscured what it was. Still, Zac was certain he had heard it correctly. Taylor was talking to their mother.

Zac couldn’t even think or move. He pressed his back against the door, closing it as softly as possible. Taylor was in the kitchen, with his back turned, and Zac could only hope he wouldn’t turn around.

“That is his decision. Zac is an adult now, you know. And you forced me to make an even more difficult decision before I was legally an adult. Zac’s heart and mind are in a much better place than mine were when I had to make the choice I made. Whatever he said to you, I stand by it, too.”

Taylor paused. He heaved a sigh that made his shoulders visibly rise and fall. 

“Goodbye, Mom. Tell Dad I said goodbye, too.”

Zac could feel his heart shattering into pieces at the sound of Taylor’s voice, more childlike than he could remember it ever sounding. Even when Taylor was a child he had seemed to adult to Zac, so grown up. Before Zac could even begin to consider hiding, Taylor spun around and the look on his face was just as pitiful and broken as his voice.

“How—how much did you hear?” He asked.

Zac shrugged. “Enough.”

“The nerve of them,” Taylor said, looking at his cell phone in disgust, like he might throw it across the room. “They wanted—can you even believe this—they wanted _me_ to convince you that you were making the wrong choice. They wanted to guilt trip me—and the sad thing is, after all this time, they still can. Almost. But deep down, I know they’re wrong.”

“What did… what did they say?” Zac asked, taking a few cautious steps toward Taylor.

“In essence, that you were throwing your life away and that you still had a chance to get back on the right track. That if I really loved you, I would take myself out of your life for your own good. It was just the same shit all over again, and I just—I guess I thought maybe they would have grown a bit. But no. Eight years later, it’s still the same shit about what a horrible influence I am.”

Zac felt a hard pit forming in his stomach, and he had a feeling he knew what Taylor wasn’t saying. That their parents could accuse Taylor of that was almost unbelievable, and Zac might not have believed it if it weren’t just another thing on a list of their crimes. 

“You know the funniest part though?” Taylor asked. “Well, funny isn’t the right word. But I did find it interesting that they seem to be under the impression that you’re dropping out of grad school.”

The lump in Zac’s stomach threatened to turn into a black hole. He only wished it really was; then it could swallow him on the spot. His head down, he mumbled, “That’s… that’s because I did.”

“And you were keeping that a secret from everyone but them?” There was just a hint of venom in Taylor’s words, and Zac supposed he deserved that.

“No,” Zac replied. “I mean, I meant to tell you. To tell everyone. It just sort of slipped out with them, but they kinda ruined everything. I came home with that pizza and I was so excited to tell everyone and we could celebrate and then—well, there they were. And everything went to hell.”

Taylor shook his head. “No, Zac. That was a week ago. You have had more chances since then than I want to count. And you still didn’t tell me. I mean, what is your plan here? What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Zac replied honestly. “I just know I can’t do this. I mean—I can’t live like this. I don’t know what my life is going to be, but it’s not going to be college forever.”

“I don’t think I can handle this right now,” Taylor said, shaking his head again. He held a hand up to stop Zac from protesting, although Zac didn’t even know what there was to protest. “I appreciate that you’re going through a lot yourself, too, but I really need to not be here right now. I need to think about… well, a lot of things. And I don’t think I can do that here, this near you.”

“I don’t—where are you going to go?” Zac wanted to point out the bags of takeout he still held, but he didn’t think that would help his case.

“Melissa’s, maybe. Or maybe I’ll just drive around for a bit and hope I feel better. I promise—I’m not leaving. I just need a little space, right now.”

Zac nodded. “Okay. That… that’s fair.”

And truthfully, Zac knew that it was. He finally sat the food down on the table and let himself sink into a chair as Taylor wandered off, presumably to pack himself an overnight bag. There was a small part of Zac that feared Taylor really wouldn’t come back, but he knew—hoped—that part was just being irrational. 

Then again, he had been burned before. Zac could still remember exactly how it had felt to watch Taylor drive away and know that he wasn’t coming back. Until that day, he had convinced himself that his parents would change their mind, that they were just overreacting. But he knew, as he helped Taylor pack his car, that was it. The end. 

Only, it hadn’t been. They were back together now, and Zac could only hope he would figure out how to keep them that way.

“I’ll… I’ll, umm, call you later. I guess,” Taylor said, clearing his throat. “We’ll sort this out. I just… I just can’t. Not right now.”

Zac nodded. It was eerie, how Taylor had seemed to read his mind. There was just one question left unanswered, Zac realized.

“Hey, Tay?”

Taylor paused. “Yeah?”

“How did… I mean, how did they get your number? Mom and Dad, I mean.”

Taylor stopped in his tracks. “It’s the same number I’ve had for years. When I got to Buffalo, I bought the cheapest pre-paid phone I could get, just so I would have one, and I called home. I don’t know, I guess I thought that someday they would come around. They would realize how unfair they had been. And when they did, they would have my number. I’ve had three or four phones since then, but I made sure I kept the number. And I guess they kept the number, too.”

Zac was certain he would have fallen over if he hadn’t already been sitting down. “So, what you’re telling me is that all that time, they knew. They could have given me a way to contact you, and they didn’t.”

“Did you even ask them?” Taylor countered.

“No,” Zac replied honestly. “It… it never occurred to me that they would know. I trusted them, as strange as it sounds. It never would have occurred to me that they were hiding information about you.”

“It never occurred to them that you were on my side,” Taylor replied softly, only a hint of judgment in his voice, but a heaping helping of resignation.

“No, I guess it didn’t,” Zac mumbled. Zac himself was starting to wonder if he truly had been. If he had, wouldn’t he have asked them for something, some clue or breadcrumb to lead him to his brother? The area code alone would have narrowed down his search. They might have reconnected years ago, had Zac not blindly trusted their parents even after their biggest betrayal.

Betraying their sons and pitting them against each other seemed to be their parents’ idea of fun, Zac mused. They couldn’t know what they had truly done, of course, but it didn’t matter. Their intent was almost worse than the actual outcome. They wanted to, once again, convince Taylor that he was broken. Dangerous. That he was _harmful_ to Zac, and if he truly loved him, he would sacrifice himself for his brother.

But instead, what they had done was reveal Zac’s secret, one that he truly hadn’t intended to keep. By the same token, his intention didn’t matter either, Zac realized. He had lied, by omission or otherwise, but a lie nonetheless. In doing so, he had broken Taylor’s trust. It could be repaired, he hoped, but it was two steps forward and one step back.

Belatedly, Zac realized that Taylor had spoken, but he hadn’t heard a word of it.

“I said I’ll be back soon,” Taylor said, once again seeming to read Zac’s mind. “I’ll give you a call when I—well, when I can. When I’m mentally up for it.”

“Okay,” Zac replied. He wanted to say more but the words wouldn’t come, and so he resigned himself to watching silently as Taylor walked out the door. The door closed with a soft thud and Zac stared at it and mumbled, “Love you.”


	36. Keeping Secrets

Zac sat at the kitchen table for longer than he wanted to admit, staring at the door in hopes that Taylor would change his mind and walk back in. By the time he accepted that it wasn’t going to happen, all of the Chinese food had gone cold. Mechanically, he put the cartons into the fridge, knowing he didn’t have the stomach to eat anything right then. Instead, he pulled a bottle of beer from the door, although he knew that wouldn’t go down very well, either.

“Fuck it,” Zac mumbled, popping the cap and taking a swig. All alone in his apartment, there wasn’t much damage he could do, even if he drank every single beer they had. It might be self-destructive, but he would wake up in the morning in the same situation, albeit hungover. 

Alcohol had been the thing to get him into this situation, but Zac didn’t blame it. He didn’t blame himself or Taylor, either. There was no point in trying to replay it all and figure out where they had gone wrong or what they might have done differently. 

No, that wasn’t true. He was to blame for Taylor losing faith in him. But more than that, their parents were to blame. They had pitted the brothers against each other, choosing to put all of their faith in one and push him to be the perfect son. And they had abandoned the other, after doing all they could to convince him that he was sick, worthless, a disgrace.

Had they always made that distinction? Had they always played favorites between the two brothers? Zac couldn’t answer that question, and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to. There was a part of him that still couldn’t truly fathom how flawed their parents were, even with all of the evidence in front of him. They were still his parents, after all. 

Weren’t they? 

Although they had made one last effort, Zac considered those bridges fully burned. Whether they had ever been good parents was a more difficult question to answer and one that made Zac feel sick to his stomach. Surely they had been once upon a time, and he couldn’t even begin to pinpoint when that might have changed. 

Zac made his way through three beers before he decided that Taylor truly wasn’t coming home, at least not that night. Although he had not had a particularly busy day—painting all day was hardly work—it had been emotionally taxing. He couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping in his bed without Taylor, and so he let himself sink down into the couch into the most comfortable sleeping position it would allow. It wasn’t all that comfortable, but after such a long day and a few beers, he fell asleep easily in spite of the couch’s scratchy texture and bare springs.

 

_Zac harbored no delusions whatsoever about his level of popularity; he knew exactly where being a band geek left him on the social totem pole at Jenks High School. It didn’t matter that the band was just as successful as any sports team on campus. Being a freshman didn’t help his social standing at all, and in band world, that meant starting at crash cymbals and working his way up, if he could._

_Still, it meant getting into all of the football games for free, and Zac wasn’t going to complain about that._

_In the band, Zac was his own man. He wasn’t just Taylor’s little brother. There was a little crossover between the band and theatre crowds, but no judgment. If anyone even realized who his older brother was, it was only a matter of mild amusement, and not a reason to shun him the way the jocks and popular girls did._

_Zac wanted to be upset with Taylor for leaving such a strange legacy for him, but he wasn’t. He had never really understood what the other kids seemed to find so awful about his brother. Sure, he acted a little feminine at times, but that was probably to be expected for someone who had been bitten with the theatre bug when he got the starring role in the church pageant. And okay, even Zac had to admit that Taylor’s looks were freakishly girly, to the point of being inhuman, and the long hair didn’t help; he had stubbornly kept his own long too in hopes it would discourage people from teasing Taylor._

_But nothing had helped._

_At least high school was bigger than middle school. It was easier to blend in and find his own path. Being in the band helped with that, even if it wasn’t helping with his overall popularity. He had friends, at least, and there was a flute player named Stacy who he found himself staring at during practice. He had an obstructed view of the side of her then, but during the games her had a perfect view straight down the stands, right to her curly blonde hair that was still just as beautiful with her Trojan hat on._

_The band wasn’t allowed to wander off until the third quarter, after they had performed their halftime show. It was finally starting to come together, which was a good thing, since homecoming was in two weeks. His parents had been bugging Zac about whether or not he was going to the dance, and if so, who he might be taking. He really didn’t have many options—truthfully, any. It took all the courage he had just to smile at Stacy and give her a little wave when he passed by her spot in the stands._

_“Hey, Zac,” she said softly, and he thought that the way she said his name was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard. “Are you going to the concession stand?”_

_“Yeah,” he replied. One of the other drummers nudged him as he passed by, and Zac managed to ask, “Can I get you anything?”_

_“A lemonade and nachos. With chili.” Another flute player made a face at that, but Zac couldn’t help smiling._

_“Nachos with chili, coming right up,” he said, his smile so wide it actually hurt._

_He had shed his uniform jacket, leaving him in a white t-shirt that was sure to be stained with nacho cheese and chili very soon, but Zac found that he didn’t care at all. He barely even noticed the slight chill in the air, and it seemed to take no time at all to make his way through the concession stand line and retrieve their food. He was practically floating on air when he made his way back to the stands and handed Stacy’s snack and drink to her._

_“Thanks,” she said, shedding her own jacket. Zac tried not to stare at the tight-fitting Hello Kitty shirt she wore underneath it. She reached under the stand and retrieved her purse. “Here, let me may you back for that. What was it, five bucks?”_

_“Don’t worry about it,” Zac replied._

_Stacy smiled at him, but her brow was slightly furrowed. “No, I’ve got the money for it, I promise. You can’t just go around buying nachos for girls.”_

_“Well, maybe not for just any girls,” Zac replied. He started to apologize and take it back, but the way Stacy’s smile spread made him feel a little bit bolder. “Tell you what, you can pay for the nachos… if you let me pay for our homecoming dance tickets.”_

_“But tickets are way more than—oh. Are you asking me to be your date?”_

_“I guess I am,” Zac admitted._

_“In that case, I think we have a deal.” She dove back down for her purse and Zac’s hand was only slightly shaking when he took the five dollar bill from hers._

_The rest of the game went by in a blur, as Zac and Stacy made plans for the dance and got to know each other better. She was loud and nerdy, and Zac was reasonably certain he was already head over heels in love. He barely even noticed that they had won the game against Union; he was too wrapped up in thoughts of how Stacy would look in the aqua blue dress she had already bought in hopes that someone would ask her to the dance._

_Once the band was dismissed, Zac hurried to put his equipment away. Taylor was his ride home, and he knew his brother could be both impatient and easily distracted. Neither were particularly good qualities in an older brother who was meant to look after you and make sure you got home on time, but Zac knew Taylor well enough to anticipate potential problems._

_Of course, knowing his brother didn’t prevent him from leaving his stand and all of his music in the bleachers because he was distracted with thoughts of blonde hair and aqua blue homecoming dance dresses._

_When he realized his mistake, Zac rushed back to the field. The crowd had all but vanished, and he knew the gate would be locked soon. Luckily, there was an entrance by the band section that was almost always forgotten. He slipped in and snatched up his stand, but paused in his tracks when the sound of laughter hit his ears._

_It was a familiar laugh, but what made Zac stop in his tracks was the fact that the sound seemed to be coming from beneath the stands. Sure enough, he could see movement just off to the right, underneath the bleachers themselves. A flash of blonde hair caught the stadium lights for a brief moment, and Zac realized why the laugh had seemed familiar._

_It was Taylor._

_Taylor said something softly, so softly that the words themselves didn’t carry, but the tone of them did. Zac suddenly felt like he was witnessing something very private that he really shouldn’t be watching. That feeling only intensified when Taylor’s voice was answered by another, deeper, unquestionably male one._

_As carefully and quietly as he could, Zac tucked his music and stand under his arm and made his way back to the band room. Taylor had promised to meet him there, and Zac didn’t want to give any indication that he had been anywhere else whenever Taylor finally did remember his duty._

_It wasn’t as though he had really seen anything incriminating, Zac reasoned. There was probably a perfectly good, innocent explanation for his brother hiding out under the bleachers with another guy. The fact that Zac couldn’t think of one right then didn’t mean anything._

_Of one thing he was certain, though. Taylor didn’t need to know what Zac had seen, and neither did their parents._

 

When Zac finally woke, it was well past time for his first class of the day to start. Not that it truly mattered, he realized. Taylor wasn’t there to notice if he deviated from his schedule, and even if he had been, the pretense was over. The truth had been revealed.

Zac felt his stomach turn over, but he knew it wasn’t because of the beer. He hadn’t had enough to drink for that.  
Still, it took him a moment to pull himself up to a seated position, the couch having left roughly every muscle in his body tense and aching. He felt a hard lump beneath his ass, and after rooting around in the cushions for a moment, uncovered his cell phone. It still held a half charge, but no missed calls. Not that he had truly expected any, but it still somehow made his heart sink to see a blank screen.

He opened up his recent calls and found Melissa’s name. She was probably at work and wouldn’t answer, but he crossed his fingers just in case. 

“Hello?” 

“Oh, good,” Zac said, his stomach turning again in spite of his relief that she had, in fact, answered. “You’re not busy or anything, are you?”

“I was just on my way out,” she replied. 

Zac cleared his throat. “Is, umm… is Taylor there?”

“You could have just called him,” Melissa replied, her tone sounded more tired than angry. Zac had a brief mental image of her and Taylor staying up all night bonding, and he wasn’t sure which of them he was more jealous of.

“I really couldn’t,” he said. “I just wanted to check, I guess. See if he’s—I dunno, feeling any better. I know it’s probably too soon. That’s why I called you.”

There was a shuffling sound for a moment before Melissa spoke again. “He left for work just before me. I think he was feeling a little better, but honestly I don’t know if it means anything. I wouldn’t expect anything in particular. I mean, don’t get your hopes up. He’s going to need time to realize that, yes, you made mistakes, but he overreacted, and you two are strong enough to get through this.”

“I don’t know if I would say he overreacted,” Zac mumbled.

“Well, I would. And I did. I mean, I saw enough of your parents to understand exactly how they could manipulate a person. Taylor had time to recover from that influence, but you didn’t, and you’ve gone through a lot of changes really quickly this semester. I think you both need to talk, honestly, about your plans. But I don’t think that the fact that you didn’t do that right away is a reason to call the whole thing off.” 

“I hope you told him all of that.”

Melissa chuckled. “I did. And more. We had a lot to drink last night, so honestly, both of us are way to hungover to be working today, but oh well.”

“I’ll bring you a coffee,” Zac said. “You’ve more than earned it.”

“Thank you,” Melissa replied. “And also, you’re welcome. For keeping your emotional brother company last night, I mean.”

“Thank you for that. I think… maybe I’ll take him a coffee, too. If you think it’s wise.”

“I think he’ll appreciate the thought,” Melissa said, “but I have really got to get to work. Call or text later and let me know how things go, okay?”

“Will do,” Zac replied. After a moment’s pause, he added, “And Melly, do you really think we’re strong enough?”  
“I do. I really do.” 

“Thanks,” Zac said. “Talk to you later.”

He wasn’t so sure that he shared her faith in them, but it gave him hope nonetheless. If he could be brave and honest, maybe he would be worthy of Taylor and they truly would get through this together. They had weathered enough alone, Zac reasoned. It was time that they leaned on each other, rather than breaking apart.


	37. Smoke and Mirrors

By the time Zac managed to clean himself up into something vaguely presentable, it was closing in on what he thought was Melissa’s lunch break. He swung by the Starbucks on campus and picked up a caramel latte; it was a little too warm for that, but the library was always a good ten degrees colder than it really needed to be. 

Melissa was at her usual spot behind the circulation desk, and she gave Zac a wide smile when he walked in with the drink in hand.

“You know drinks aren’t allowed in the library,” she said, still smiling as she took the steaming cup from his hand.

“Does that mean I’m in trouble?” Zac shot back.

She giggled. “If you were anyone else and the drink weren’t for me, yes. But I really, really needed this today. So you’re off the hook this time.”

“Good to know,” he replied, then sighed. “I just hope Taylor can forgive me that easily. I know I screwed up, but I just—I was trying, you know? I thought I was taking the right steps to get us where we needed to be.”

“And he’s smart enough to see that, but he’s been through so much, Zac. You’ve gotta be honest with him and help him learn how to trust. It isn’t about whether or not he trusts you; it’s about how much he’s been betrayed and how hard it is for him to trust anyone.”

Zac nodded. “I know. I hate that they put him through that, that they’re still trying to put him through it. It isn’t fair that he had to suffer all of that alone and I got it so much easier. I can’t go back and fix that, I know. I just have to be—I dunno, better. Good enough for him.”

“You are good enough, Zac,” Melissa replied. “Honestly. And even the best person makes mistakes. You just need to be aware of how much Taylor doesn’t believe that he deserves you. Keep that in mind and do your best, and things will be fine, I’m sure.”

“I hope you’re right,” Zac said, then leaned across the desk to give her a quick peck on the cheek. “Thanks for everything, Melly. I’ll text you later.”

“Later, Zac,” she replied, then took an exaggeratedly long sip of her coffee.

Zac said goodbye to her once again, laughing as he did so, and made his way back to the parking lot where he had left his car. As he drove to the mall where Taylor worked, he pondered what he would even say to his brother. He came up with several possibilities, but no words seemed adequate to explain how he truly felt. Everything they had been through, every bit of suffering that Zac had knowingly or unknowingly contributed to, it was all more than Zac could put into words. He was just going to have to wing it.

His first stop in the mall was Starbucks, which wasn’t on the way to Sephora at all, but that was fine by him. A green tea latte made a pretty good peace offering, Zac reasoned, even if two Starbucks visits in one day made him look like something of an addict.

On his way back to the first floor, he passed by the Lego store, one that always caught his eye. Maybe it was childish of him to still feel that stir of butterflies in his stomach at the sight of those little bricks. Zac didn’t really care. Anything that reminded him of the earlier part of his childhood, before the wool was pulled from his eyes and he saw his parents for who they really were, filled him with a mixture of hope and nostalgia that seemed neverending. 

What caught his eye right then, though, wasn’t the creative brick displays, but a sign advertising that the store was hiring. It wasn’t a career, by any means, but it was a chance to work with something that he loved. Carefully holding the latte inside of his jacket, Zac walked into the store and grabbed an application from the fancy display that detailed all the perks of working for the company. 

He rolled the application up and stuffed it into his pocket, then headed down to the Seophora where Taylor worked. He paused outside, hoping he wouldn’t have to wander around the store to find his brother. The idea of being surrounded by so much makeup made him a little itchy. He knew it was ridiculous, but the feeling lingered nonetheless. 

Luckily, Taylor was hovering by a counter near the door, a strange expression on his face when he spun around and realized Zac was loitering.

“What are you doing here?” Taylor practically hissed out, but there was more amusement in his tone than reproach.

Zac shrugged, then inched his jacket open to reveal the latte that was starting to leave a cold, wet spot on his hip. “I come bearing contraband.”

Taylor rolled his eyes slightly. “I’m off the clock in about ten minutes anyway, if you can hang on that long. I mean, I’m assuming it’s for me.”

“It is,” Zac replied, nodding. He couldn’t help smiling in spite of himself, even though Taylor still seemed a bit wary.

“Well, just hang on,” Taylor said. “Let me take care of a few things in the back, and then maybe we can get lunch at the food court. I’m betting you haven’t eaten anything yet.”

“I haven’t,” Zac admitted. “I’ll umm… I’ll just wait outside. Wouldn’t want to get caught with a drink in here.”

Taylor chuckled, then promised again to meet him in ten minutes or less. Zac had a feeling Taylor knew he still felt weird about being surrounded by makeup and hair products, but at least his brother didn’t see fit to tease him about that.

Zac had barely found a free bench to sit down on when he saw Taylor walking toward him. He stood back up immediately, nearly spilling the latte in the process as he handed it to his brother. Taylor gave him a genuine smile and took a long sip, then sighed happily.

“So, Panda Express? To make up for the Chinese dinner I kinda ruined last night?”

Zac shook his head. “I mean, yeah, that’s fine. Just… you didn’t ruin anything.”

“Okay,” Taylor replied, looking like he wanted to say more, but didn’t. He didn’t speak again until they were on the escalator. “So, what’s that in your pocket?”

“Oh, umm, I picked up an application for the Lego store. I dunno, I just figured I needed to do something, now that our parents have cut me off. It’s not a career or anything but it’s something for now.”

Taylor reached up to thread his fingers through Zac’s. “It’s a good step. For now.”

“Is this the part where you get all sappy and tell me how proud of me you are?” Zac asked.

“Maybe,” Taylor replied, blushing slightly. “But only because it’s true and I am. In so many more ways than you probably even fathom.”

Zac didn’t know what to say to that, so he settled for giving Taylor’s hand a squeeze. There was a part of him that still felt like he needed to walk on eggshells for fear of accidentally doing something else wrong. However fragile, they had seemed to have come to some agreement, some understanding. But Zac knew the trust still wasn’t there and would need time to build. 

The two of them stayed silent until they reached the food court and made their choices about what to eat. It was simple and easy how they fell into step together, like they had been a team forever. But they had, hadn’t they? There might have been a break of several years in between, but Taylor had been a part of Zac’s life—a part of _Zac_ \--from the beginning. It might have made their relationship unconventional and socially unacceptable, but their shared DNA made them two parts of the same puzzle.

“I’m sorry,” Zac finally said, the words barely audible over the crowd around them in the food court. Taylor blinked, nearly dropping his fork. Zac sighed. “I don’t know what I was thinking, keeping that to myself. I think I’m only just realizing how deep all these issues go, you know? I mean, how badly they fucked us both up, but especially you. No offense.”

“None taken. I think that’s a pretty accurate description of what they did.” Taylor sat down his fork and pushed his plate back so he could rest his elbows on the table and look Zac in the eye. “Apology accepted. And given. I’m sorry, too, for running out and being a drama queen over something I know you didn’t purposefully do to hurt me. It wasn’t even really about that.”

“Can I ask what it was about?”

“Well, speaking of our parents fucking me up,” Taylor said, chuckling nervously. “I won’t—I can’t—repeat what they said to me. But there’s apparently a part of me, deep down, that believes it. Everything we’ve done since we’ve been back together doesn’t help, you know? When they start telling me how bad of an influence I am, how being around me is bad for you… well, it’s unfortunately easier to believe it now.”

“Because we’re…” Zac glanced around, not finishing his sentence. “But you know I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do. You didn’t force anything on me. I can make my own choices.”

Taylor nodded. “Realistically, I do know that. But then I start to wonder, would this have happened if they hadn’t forced us apart? Is this just another part of how their fucked up parenting has changed us?”

“But you want this, too, right?” Zac asked, almost afraid to know Taylor’s answer. He heaved a sigh of relief when Taylor nodded. 

“Of course I do. More than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

“And it doesn’t… _feel_ wrong? Does it? Maybe it did at first, I don’t know, but it doesn’t now.” Lowering his voice, Zac added, “I love you, and I want you more than anything. I don’t know how that can be wrong. I don’t know what caused it, but does that even matter now? It is what it is.”

“I love you too,” Taylor said, but Zac couldn’t ignore the storm clouds in his eyes.

“I don’t know what else to say or do to convince you this is what I want,” Zac replied. “You know this is just them getting under your skin, don’t you? They don’t even know the half of it, but they are determined to drive us apart, and they’re doing it by trying to convince you that you’re—you’re some predator or something. And I promise you that you’re not.”

Taylor heaved a sigh. “You know, it’s possible to logically know and understand a thing, and still have an emotional reaction to it that runs counter to what you know the truth to be.”

“I know,” Zac replied. Heaving a sigh of his own, he added, “Which is why I’m going to offer to ease off. To say let’s take a break. If that’s what you need to get your head together, and get them out of it, and know that what we have is real and true and right for us.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Of course not,” Zac shot back. “But it’s not about what I want. I’m offering it, if it’s what you need. You tell me if you think it will help.”

Slowly, Taylor nodded. “I think… I mean, it might not be the worst idea. We’ll probably see even more of each other now that you’re working here, but maybe we can just… giving it a little cooling off period of sorts. Just to give me time to deal with… god, all this shit in my brain. I’m sorry; I wish I were the confident, pulled together big brother you see, but the truth is I’m really not. Not remotely.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a mess, too,” Zac replied, chuckling. Taylor gave a soft, abortive laugh of his own. “But that’s the thing about us, I think. We’re better together. We’re fucked up and weird, but it’s us. It works.”

“I wish you could see how strong and self-assured you seem. I mean—you are. You are so much stronger than you realize.” Taylor paused and laughed softly, a genuine smile beginning to creep across his face. “I guess in that way, we are kind of alike. After all we’ve been through, we’re both somehow still going when we ought to be totally broken.”

“I wouldn’t be half of what you think I am if I didn’t have you. Any strength you see, I’m just reflecting back what I see in you.”

“It’s all just a house of cards, huh? Smoke and mirrors.” Taylor’s smile turned slightly sardonic.

Zac shrugged. “Maybe, but if it works, it works. But seriously, we can ease off. Cool things down for a bit. When you’re ready, if—if you’re ready, then we’ll talk. I’ll follow your lead.”

“Thank you,” Taylor replied. “I think—I think that will be good really good for us. For both of us.”

Zac picked at his food a bit. “I guess I should probably go finish up my paperwork on campus. And get that application filled in, too. Not to cut things short, but…”

“No, it’s fine,” Taylor replied, shaking his head. “You have important things to do. Things I am very, very proud of you for doing. I should run by Whole Foods and pick some things up for dinner. Consider it an apology dinner.”

“Which differs from you cooking dinner every other day of the week… how?”

Taylor laughed softly. “I’ll buy ice cream, too?”

“You’ve got a deal,” Zac replied. “I’ll see you later.”

“Later," Taylor said softly, glancing down.

Zac wanted to reach across the table and give him a kiss, but something held him back. Even though it had been his idea, he knew that taking a break from their relationship wouldn’t be easy. He could only hope it was the right thing to do and it didn’t blow up in their faces. 

He didn’t dare voice in any of that, though. Instead, he reached across the table to grasp Taylor’s hand and give it a squeeze. They held hands under the table for a moment, neither one of them seeming to want to let go. Taylor was the first one to break away, and Zac tried not to read too much into that.


End file.
